Part of the Plan A Sequel
by Calamity in Motion
Summary: Over the last year, the Joker has managed to find himself enemies, and not just with Batman. Unfortunately, being at his side has put Harley in the crossfire. She managed to survive before, but how long can she last this time, and with her sanity in tact?
1. Mad World

**To those who read the first one, I'm hoping to take this story to a much darker level. I know it doesn't happen often, but I want this to be better than Ace in the Hole. At the very least it's better planned out. I already know (and have written out) a few key plot-nuggets and can't wait to get to them. I hope you enjoy this one as much as the first, and please, lay some feed-back on me. I really want to know what you think about this one guys. Reviews help me write, so keep 'em coming even if it's to say that "you award me no points and may God have mercy on my soul"**

**Harsh, but I can take it.**

**I know this one's short, but it just felt right to stop there, so I'll post the next that much sooner. **

**-Heath's Harley-**

The ceiling and walls were fighting again.

I could hear them screaming. Nonsensical, horrible sounds that grated on my ears like sandpaper. I slapped my hands down on my ears and rolled over, trying to block out the endless wailing by curling into myself, but they were too loud.

God, why wouldn't they just stop?

I just wanted quiet in my dark little hell. Why couldn't I have quiet? Just for a moment, so I could get the sleep I desperately wanted. The sleep Dr. Leelan had promised me when she'd changed my medication.

**Again.**

"_Now these will make you tired, Harleen." _

She always used my full name, no matter how many times I corrected her. She thought it would help with my 'identity issues'. Whatever _that_ meant.

"_It's going to take a few days for your body to get used to the new medication. You might loose your appetite, but I promise they _will_ help." She smiled, all bright and clean behind her large glasses, "They're going to make things better."_

So far they'd only made things** loud**.

I gave up trying to block out the noise, which had faded to a dull roar behind my ears and rolled onto my back. I suppose things could be worse. Just last week I'd been strapped in an honest to god strait-jacket. Before now, I'd thought they were the product Hollywood. An archaic vision of Asylum life. Wasn't it fun to learn otherwise?

So, yes, things could be worse. I could be back to sleeping on the floor because the lack of mobility in my arms made it nearly impossible to remain on my tiny cot. (I was a wiggler when I slept) Back to the medication that made me dizzy and nauseous and entirely too forthcoming when it came time for my weekly chat with Doc Leelan. I suspect that had been a large factor in deciding my poison. As it stood, I was the closest thing they had to an insight on the Joker. _His_ routine check-ups had become little more than formality at this point, from what I'd heard. Every doctor they sent to get inside his head either quit or was subsequently 302'd into the Asylum themselves.

A wave of crushing depression washed over me with the thought of my Puddin'. It had been months since I'd so much as glimpsed him! Doc Leelan was very strict about her inmate proximity violations. She hadn't been pleased when we were caught tangled in the darker billiard section of the rec room. Even more so that I'd managed to get _into_ the male rec room in the first place. She'd sentenced poor Harley to another long season in isolation, then switched up my meds to keep me quiet.

So here I was, arms free and listening to the sounds of my walls arguing with the ceiling. They called out something I couldn't decipher and I watched the padded prison writhe like some great shimmering beast, set on devouring me whole. Or perhaps this was the belly and I'd already been swallowed.

As if to answer my unspoken question, they was a bang…more muffled than really loud, but enough to make me start. Fighting through the haze of chemical suppressants, I managed to push myself up and stare almost strait at the cell door. The walls were growling again, fight amongst themselves…trembling. I could feel the tiny shutters of fear zipping through the floor and snatched my hands up to my chest. Because whatever could make the very walls quake in terror couldn't be good for frail, little Harley.

I imagined a great slithering beast just outside the door, it gnashed great teeth longer than my arm and twice and thick, letting trails of saliva hiss to the floor. Its eyes were empty sockets that seemed to lead to nothing at all. As I gazed into them I felt myself falling. Falling into the bottomless pits while the creature parted its jaws to give a laugh so chilling it made my breath come in shallow pants. The sound was warped and dark, terrifying and it was getting louder. It surrounded me with wave upon wave of deep, horrible sound, distorted by the walls and my fuzzy, sluggish brain.

Something scraped against the metal outside my cell and I whimpered, pressing myself back against the wall like a frightened animal. I watched through the pitch blackness and prayed that the creature remain outside. Please let it leave me alone. But the wall was suddenly cracking, the cell flooding with light so harsh it made me cry out and throw my arms over my face to keep my eyes from sizzling right out of my skull.

"Please no." I whispered into the soft wall, and willed my body to melt into the corner. Let me simply disappear, I begged silently, but of course, nothing happened. I could see the beast now, fuzzy through my cracked eyelids. It growled something and I whimpered again, curling further into myself and blinking away tears. Was this how I would end? Devoured in a nut house all alone? No! I couldn't. This monster couldn't have me!

It was close now, so close I could nearly feel its proximity and it towered over me with another rumble of senseless sound. My heart was racing, and I felt trapped. Too close. It was far too close. With a cry, I swung my arm out toward the monster then froze when its claws stopped my strike and curled around my wrist.

No…not claws. Not sharp. This was skin, almost soft but for calluses. Still breathing heavily, I turned my swimming vision upwards toward the thing and nearly choked on a gasp.

Golden light swam out around this human-like figure as it knelt down before me. As I watched, the sterile white of the outside walls swam together into wings around his back. This was no monster.

It was an angel.

Golden cherub curls framed a face so perfect it was almost painful to look at, or perhaps that was the overwhelming relief at seeing him. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out except half sounds. My tongue felt swollen and clumsy behind my lips, so I simply closed them and let the tears fall down my cheeks. The eyes that met my own were deep pools of obsidian, and that held me so still my body began to ache as I let out a soft sob.

The angel pulled me against his chest with a little chuckle and I simple let my emotions swell over me.

"Don't worry, sweethear-_t_." He spoke against my matted hair, "Daddy's here to make it _alll_ better."

---------------------------------------------------------

**So, I'm not really too pleased with the title, but I'm going to suck it up and go with it. In some ways it works with what I have planned for **_**this **_**story, being that there really is a bigger picture, even if Mr. J won't fully reveal it yet.**

**Tell me what you think, and don't hold back. Also! Know that the next chapter is already written along with various scenes in this story, so I'm hoping to update a bit faster this time. At the very least I have so many ideas for this story…I'm all aflutter with excitement! :D**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed the first installment, though I know it was a bit lacking in Joker-goodness. Don't worry, it just get's darker from here.**


	2. Harley and her Happy Pills

**Alec**

Standing by the newly procured red sports car, Alec couldn't help but think that this whole plan was stupid. He'd been told that the Joker was getting out, and his keen senses told him it wasn't going to be through the front gate. When the alarm inside the asylum went off, he decided he'd been right.

Then he saw it, out near the wall, a flash of orange and…a doctor? He pushed off the door and rested a tense fist on the butt of his Glock. Blond and tan, the man was hauling a clumsy female patient toward the car. When she tripped over herself, he paused, looking at her down on the concrete and motioned toward the car.

It couldn't be, Alec began to think, but then realized he'd never actually seen the Joker without his _face. _His normal face that is…and how odd was it to think of clown makeup as _normal_? He might have been a good-looking guy at one time…well not that the scars really killed his charms, it was just knowing the man. Knowing what he was really like made it hard to think of him as anything but the kind of boss you NEVER pissed off. The wanker could get downright violent when he didn't get his way.

Alec nodded toward the clown and opened the passenger door as the two made a slow path over the wide street. It seemed the little blond bombshell was…when there wasn't really a word for the kind of fucked up she was right now. Whatever they'd given her, Alec wouldn't mind trying. Though it made her irritatingly slow moving. She could hardly stand, and the Joker wasn't really the kind of guy who put up with setbacks.

"She's feeling good." He remarked once they'd made it to the car. Up close, Alec noticed the tiny blood stains on the Joker's doctor coat. Looks like the escape hadn't been as smooth as they'd planned.

"She's feelin'…" the clown grumbled and released his woman to slip out of his "disguise" (if you could call it that) while she turned wide, dilated eyes on Alec. Bloody hell, were her pupils huge! Nearly consuming her entire eyes and when she saw the Brit a wide grin spread over her face.

"It's you!" Harley fell against his chest, throwing her arms around his neck and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Was she really that out of it? Tossing herself on another man with her own very possessive, _very_ dangerous man standing right there?! Was the bint trying to get him killed?! Alec's eyes shot up to the Joker, his hands in the air like he was being arrested, and his mouth bobbed open a moment, fishing for anything that might divert trouble.

He was greeted by black eyes and a titled half-smile, then the clown reached out and grabbed the back of her shirt collar, pulling her off of Alec. She giggled again, obviously not fazed in the slightest.

"Look who came, Puddin'." Then she tucked herself against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder and smiled dreamily. "Are we going home now?"

Both men took a moment to regard the tripping blond with a sort of frown, then the joker grabbed both her shoulders and stood her back against the car like a doll. Without answering her, though she'd probably already forgotten her question, he turned to Alec.

"Why do you keep her around again?" Alec asked playfully, regretting it almost instantly. He didn't want to show how nervous he truly was, but by the same token, the wrong joke could get a bad response. The kind of response that ended with blood, or screaming…or writing utensils inside eye sockets.

This time, however he got lucky. The Joker chuckled before turning to his woman and nonchalantly tugging the knot of her shirt tie loose. The cloth parted several inches and she looked down laughing to herself.

"Where did _those_ come from?" Harley giggled, wiggling her upper half as if she'd never seen the things before. Alec couldn't lie…the girl was built bloody well. Though he wouldn't even think of touching her. He'd heard about the last guy to try…Tyler. Poor bugger was partially skinned. (and he'd heard a rumor that he'd been castrated…Alec shuddered at the thought)

"Sometimes I wonder the same thing, Allen" (the Brit didn't even consider correcting him) "But then I see those." He scored the girl with a look Alec knew well, then grinned. It was the look of a man who'd been incarcerated _far _too long. The look that said his celibatory streak was about to end.

Best to get them home then.

"The new place is set up, boss" he said as they got into the car, (Harley sort of tumbled into the back seat, but the clown wasn't worried, so he decided he shouldn't be) "They told me to take ya trait there."

Harley giggled again from her little tangle of limbs behind them. "You talk funny."

The Joker slammed his door and ignored her, looking out the window toward the asylum. "_I _think we need to make a _pit_ stop, Abraham."

Alec started the car, letting it rumble to life before looking to his boss for instructions. After a long moment, the Joker turned back to look at him from the corner of his eyes.

"I didn't _mean_ tomorrow."

Alright then. Gritting his teeth like a good little droogie, Alec pulled out of the parking spot and purred down the street. Hopefully the clown would give him some real instructions soon, he really didn't want to be the first blood outside the big house.

"Anywhere in particular?" he pushed glancing at the red and blue flashes of light from the rearview mirror. No doubt the roads would soon be closed down around the Birdie Bin. He didn't fancy explaining why two dangerous loons where chilling in his car. Something told him the police wouldn't want to hear his story.

They went over a bump and Harley squealed with excitement, nearly rolling onto the floor boards behind them. The Joker didn't seem to even hear her. To be completely honest, were Alec in his place, he'd be jumping into the backseat with that pretty (possibly willing) girl and making up for the last 10 months. Though he'd heard that the two of them hadn't exactly followed the asylum rules about inmate relations. Still, she was practically writhing on his leather interior. How did the clown just turn off his di-

"Take this right." The Joker leaned back in his seat while Alec jumped to oblige. Humming to himself idly, the clown pulled an orange bottle from the coat pocket he'd stolen and inspected the label.

_Yeah…as if he needed those. _Alec thought.

As if he wasn't already far enough out there.

"You have a gun, Abner?"

Alec glanced over, unable to keep his brow from furrowing slightly. "I do." He didn't need to be told to hand the thing over.

The Joker inspected the weapon then cocked it with a wide, malicious grin. "I'm feeling like a little fun before we retire. What do _you_ say, sweets?" He looked back at his woman and she smiled, obviously lost, but too stoned to really care.

"Anything you want, Mr. J."

"Well there you have it." He said, turning back toward Alec. "Let's pick it up, Adam."

"Sure thing, boss." Alec gripped the wheel tightly, but floored it.

And he'd been dumb enough to think this would be a quiet night.

**You might have noticed this was all in Alec's POV. I couldn't help myself, I just got this mental image of Harley, still rolling through her new medication and acting a fool while the boys are set on escaping. It would have been difficult writing all this from Harley's POV being that the most she really took in from this experience was**

"**ohh shiney lights." And "Mr. J looks good as a doctor"**

**The next chapter will be back to normal…but for this, I just had to let my**_** Brit**_** show you the whole scene.**

**(this was inspired in some part by Azarello and his wonderful new comic. Thank tha brilliant man for showing us Nolen's Joker with his Harley right at his side. The way it should be.)**


	3. Shop till you Drop

**Author's Note:**

**Hello again, my lovelies! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to post, I've been having trouble with the internet at the new house. I'm trying to edit the next chapter and post it before the web goes down again, so keep your fingers crossed.**

**Anyway, Warnings for language and sexual content.**

**Hope you enjoy it and No worries **imissmycupcake **, just as long as ya keep them coming, I don't care which ones you comment in. ^_^**

**Also..since you might be wondering about...halfway?... through this chapter "**_femmina matta_**_"_ is Italian for "Crazy Bitch".**

**Enjoy knowing that.**

_**Here. We. Go!**_

I felt like I was swimming in rainbows.

Which told me I was still surfing the _Ambient Tide._

Laying on my back in the sports car Alec had gotten us, I watched the fuzzy roof warp in on itself and flow away like molten rock. Letting my head loll to the side, I caught sight of the white cuff of the Joker's borrowed scrubs. A giggle bubbled up before I could stop it, and I slapped a hand down over my mouth. My lips felt strange, dried and scratchy from lack of water. (Arkham wasn't exactly up to **code** with the care of its patients) I spent the next few minutes running the pads of my fingers across the cracked flesh.

When the car stopped, I nearly rolled off the seat, making me burst into a renewed fit of giggles until Mr. J jerked his seat forward (when had he gotten out of the car?) and reached in to haul me out by the scruff of my collar. My fingers brushed a length of cinched material around his scrub pants but my hand was batted away with a tiny huff from the clown.

"You sure she can walk, boss?" Alec locked the car and was coming up by my right. I let my head fall back and looked at him from upside down, laughing at the funny picture it made. The Brit tilted his head and arched a brow while the Joker held tightly to my wrist and jerked me back to a straitened position.

"It's like wrangling a 3-year old." He chuckled and Mr. J cracked his neck, taking a slow breath that probably would have made me nervous if my brain were 100 percent.

"My legs feel like Jell-O" I intoned, delighting in the way the words rolled off my tongue. "J_eeellll_-O. Jell-_OOOOO" _I giggled some more.

Fingers slid around my jaw, forcing it to turn and face my Puddin'. He searched my eyes a moment then glanced down. I was following his gaze when he snapped to get my attention again.

"You have a pretty face." I titled my head against his wrist, nuzzling into the tanned skin there and closed my eyes. The world titled then so I opened them again, not liking the feeling. The Joker was starring at me with an expression I couldn't translate, but I didn't mind, he was still looking at _me_. It was strange, though, to see him without his greasepaint. Almost like he was wearing a disguise.

"Hold this." Mr. J pushed me toward Alec and turned away. I yelped at the sudden rush of moment then laughed when I hit his chest.

The Brit steadied me and looked up at his boss. "What're we doing here, sir?"

The Joker cocked a gun I hadn't seen him grab and flashed a wicked grin.

"_We're_ going shop**p**_**-**__ing_."

**oOo**

I kicked my feet like an adolescent girl sitting on a bridge and fluffed the sales clerk's hair. My fingers came away sticky and red thanks to the nasty holes just above her left eye, so I wiped them off on her shirt. The store we'd found was one of those all-purpose shop-an-saves. Clothes, food, animal goodies…you name it.

I could hear someone screaming near the back, but couldn't see that far passed the isles. The silent alarm had never been tripped thanks to Mr. J so I don't know what she thought she was accomplishing…other then giving away her position, so the crazed man with the semi-automatic could _find_ her.

Some people just didn't use their heads.

"OOH!! Shiny!" I leapt off the counter, having gained back most of the ability to walk. I was still pretty high, but I was able to fight through some of the haze and process full thoughts now. YAY ME! Toward the center of the store was a hunting display filled with rifles and (what had caught my attention) _knives._ I slid a finger across the glass trophy case and admired the blades. Skinning knives and tiny pocket sized blades. Then, my personal favorite, hunting knives, for close kills.

Grabbing a small replica of an elephant tusk, I smashed in the glass and tossed it over my shoulder. The blade set I chose was maybe 12 inches long with black, gum handles and serrated backs. The smallest was about 4 inches. All came with cute little black, belt sheaths. I ran my forefinger along the biggest blade, wincing when it sliced clean through my finger. They were sharp as sin and…_added bonus_…the tags said they were called "Joker Knives" for the hook near the hilt of the blade. These were made for gutting. Once the blade was in, it latched onto anything close and ripped it back out.

Perfect.

Now if only I had a belt to hook them on.

A shot rang out near the back of the department store and I jumped, then a ringing cackle from the Joker made me smile. Holding tight to my new toys, I hurried over to say _Hi_ to whoever was wishing they were dead.

The boy was maybe 16, scrawny and tall, from what I could tell in his position on the floor. He'd huddled between the wall and a jean display. I didn't see my Puddin', but assumed he was somewhere around. The boy had been shot in the leg and was clutching the wound through tears, the red soaking through his dark cargo pants. When he saw me, his eyes shot wide and he looked around frantically for his attacker.

I know Karma will one day kick my ass, but I couldn't help myself. I _had_ to mess with him. Acting as if I were trying to sneak toward him I got low and crouched down.

"He'll come back!" the boy hissed, looking shaking his head. "You have to get out! F-find _help_!"

Putting on what I hoped was my best concerned face, I knelt at his side and inspected his leg.

"How bad is it?" I asked, "_accidently_" slipping a nail or two into the open wound. His hissed in a breath and jerked away, looking at me strangely then toward a crash somewhere in the store.

"I think the bone is broken." He answered and wrapped his fingers around the growing patch of red. Apparently, he didn't want my help with that anymore. I could take a hint. "I'll be fine as long as someone comes soon. You have to get help, miss."

I looked at him a little too long, I think because he pulled away slightly, and nodded toward the doors across the store. "Get. Help."

"Pushy little bugger aren't you?" I asked and that might have been the point when he understood my part in this, but suddenly, out of nowhere, something heavy crashed into my side and I went skidding across the floor beneath its weight.

My blades scattered on the floor, but I managed to keep my grip on the 4 inch one and popped the clasp while I fought to lift my face from the carpeted floor.

"Look-_ee_ what _I've_ found."

I grinned into the floor and stopped struggling at the sound of that sing-song voice. He shifted above me, fingers curling around my throat from behind, then he moved up, pulling me along. I felt the deadly point of a blade just below my jaw and lifted my head ever-so-slightly to avoid it. The boy was having a heart-attack in his hidey-hole, eyes bugging and mouth agape. I put on a face of shocked terror and went rigid as we stood in front of him.

"And where have you been hiding, _swee_**t-**heart?" The Joker murmured into my ear, sending a wonderful shiver down my spine and strait to my groin.

It had been **FAR** too long since Harley had gotten a little somethin'-somethin'. And_ boy_…was I ready to fix that.

"I…I-" The word tripped in my mouth and I let my body tremble freely. To the boy, it would have looked like I was petrified, but Mr. J and I knew better. Another arm slid around my waist, tugging me tightly against him, and it was hard to turn the moan into a fear-sound. I supposed the gasping helped.

"_Oh_. And who's your friend?" He motioned toward the boy with his head then brought it back to nuzzle against mine. "Doesn't he know that it isn't _safe_ for little girl**sss** to be _run_ning aroun**d**?" then in a conspiratorial tone "There's a _**craaazy**_ man on the loose."

I whimpered when the blade made a slow trail down the column of my throat and dipped into my new shirt. "They're liable to get _hur__**t**_."

"Stop!" the boy cried suddenly and forced himself to his feet, leaning against the wall when his leg couldn't support his full weight. He was sweating and pale from fear, but he faced the Joker despite himself. "Don't hurt her."

Mr. J ooked up at him and cocked his head to the side. I could hear the grin in his voice when he spoke.

"Oo-hoo-_hoo! _We have a **Hero** in our midst." The muscles in his arm bulged around my throat and I choked. "I don't much _like_ heroes."

His voice dropped several octaves here and the boy fell back a step, mouth falling open just slightly before he caught himself and closed it. My would-be rescuer clenched his fist and tried to straiten.

"You can dis_like_ whatever the hell you want to buddy, just let her **go**."

The Joker let out a giggle and stepped to the side, keeping his arm around mm shoulders and knife in my shirt. The blade was cold, and despite myself, it made me nervous.

"Wow...You're a _big boy_ now aren't ya?" he laughed. "Ok, **buddy**, you got a _name_?"

"Matthew Kuklinski." That name sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. If Mr. J had, he didn't let on.

"So _Matthew, _**buddy**, what is it you want me to do? Let _her_ go?" His blade scraped back up to my throat, and I gasped.

"Or **you**?"

The kid, clearly startled and a bit confused narrowed his eyes frowning, "What?"

The Joker gave a heavy sigh, acting put-out. "I _sai__**d**_... who do you want _me_ to let _leave_? See," he licked his lips, "I could let her go. Let her run away to find some nice little officers, _ooor, _I could just _slit _her pretty little throat and let you leave instead." He looked at him sideways, from the corners of his eyes, "I _guess_ the question I'm really asking is, who do you _**real**__ly_ want to save here? The cutie…or _yourself_?"

There was a moment when I truly thought he was going to sacrifice himself to save me. A very Hollywood-romance act of selflessness. But of course, in real life, people are cowards. Hanging his head in shame, he let out a miserable half-sob.

"Her…Kill _her._"

"Hmm…not a very **good** hero, are you?" The Joker tsked, then let his knife dangle near my shoulder.

"Wrong answer." I said, frowning at the little runt and finally let myself relax against him. My head laid back against his shoulder and the Mattew's eyes got a little intense.

"I _knew _I'd seen you before! You're that _femmina matta _from GCN!" I'd only taken Itallian for a year in high school, and it had been to get into Derrek Divitch's form-fitting _Wrangles_, but still, I knew the slang. "You're the Joker's…"but then words melted on his tongue as realization dawned on him. His eyes snapped up to Mr. J and his mouth bobbed a few times. He shrank back when we moved toward him, intent on turning that frown upside down…and maybe _to his ears_.

**oOo**

Mr. J found a tiny Crafts section in the very back of the store, and in it a face painting-with-mom set. He tossed the greens and blues for the only colors we needed. Red, White, and Black.

Wearing black slacks and a nice black jacket he hopped up onto the fabric cutting table and motioned for me to follow. Ignoring the place beside him to straddle his lap, I grinned and unscrewed to tops of each color. I took a moment, to admire the face I so rarely got to see. He truly was an _attractive_ man, even if the scars and manor did well to warp that.

With his fingers drumming on my thighs, I dipped my fingers into the white an began covering his face while he watched me intently with black eyes. When I'd moved to the black he closed them, without a word, and let me smear the greasepaint over his eyelids, then around the socket. I wiped the excess on my new jeans, grabbing the red with slightly shaking fingers. He still wasn't talking, and hadn't opened his eyes, so I tentatively reached out and covered his top lip with brilliant red, a slash of vivid color on an otherwise lifeless pallet.

When he didn't shift or growl, I continued, smearing red along the scar on his left cheek. It was a slow process, almost sacred in its mood. I felt so close to him now. When I'd finished both scares, I paused and looked over my work. Here he was, my Puddin', all whole and solid again. I reached out slowly to finish the last touch, his bottom lip and had to draw a shaky breath.

His eyes snapped open then, as my forefinger skipped his lip. He saw me watching its progress with far too much interest, then as I leaned in slowly. Our eyes met for a moment before I looked back at my target and kissed him. It wasn't passionate at all, a simply grazing, but he answered quickly enough, grabbing my upper arms and flipping me onto my back on the table beside him. The Joker rolled over me, pinning my arms beside my head and tilted his head. There were tiny speckles of blood across his shirt collar and I glanced at them before meeting his eyes again.

There were no words, just a mutual need between the two of us, as we smeared and sweated off his fresh war-paint. A feeling that things were level again, and the world was back to the way I remembered it. We were out and together.

Alec's yelling and distant sirens got us to forgo our current ministrations to hurry for the car. The Brit made a point of avoiding my eyes when the Joker and I slid into the back seat. Whether he was feeling a bit nervous with the Joker back in…well…_most_ of his normal face or he'd seen something he hadn't wanted to, I didn't know or really care. With Mr. J laughing, we sped down the highway toward our new place. I wondered idly what they would say in the news reports about the store.

I hoped they'd caught a_ great_ view of the craft_ section_ on the cameras.


	4. Electrical Candy

**The first half was a dream I had a few nights ago that just made me laugh thinking about. Only…**

**-cough-**

**Harley was **_**me**_** and it had a much different ending…kinda scary, kinda nice ending…(thank you strong medications…)**

**BUT ANYWAY!**

**Please review, I'm missing my old commenters. (Have you forsaken me?) Your opinions would be greatly appreciated. Mucho thanks and as always…**

**Enjoy**

I was craving something Kosher and the goddamn pickle jar wouldn't open.

I mean really? Which asshole decided to superglue the fuckers to the glass, because there's **no way** they're this difficult because of _suction_. Maybe it was the drug haze that still had yet to fully dissipate, or maybe it was the lack of _muscle _from lack of _actual food_. I'd survived on a diet of liquid proteins and other such fun flavors fed directly through a tube for the better half of my stay in Arkham. It kept me alive, but not strong.

Which, looking back, I suppose was their point.

I banged the bottom of the jar with my palm, cursing when the stupid thing continued to PWN me then began to pout and turned to the door.

Alec and the boys had come through for us this time. Instead of a disgusting compound, we'd gotten ourselves a trendy little penthouse. It was registered, of course, to a rich Up-and-up who generously agreed to vouch for us when Mr. J showed him the cute little picture of me rocking his 3 month old daughter in their living room…while he and his wife slept soundly upstairs.

I'd looked so good in that picture. Not that I'm usually a vane type, it's just, the lost weight was a nice change. Kind of a heroine sheek in leather and vinyl. Only…you know…

Without the heroine.

_That_ was a new fun for us here at _Casa de Nutcase_. Mr. J had come back with a profound respect for chemical amalgamations. The medication they'd given him in Arkham had slowed down his mind, given him time to process each thought before it disappeared under the next two hundred. And my Angel had such a quick mind. A _brilliant_ mind. I understood his desire to rest for even a moment. Though he was never truly still. Instead, he worked himself to the brink of unconsciousness; not feeling the exhaustion of his body because he was too busy exploring new explosive devices and ideas for the city he'd made his own.

I feared, however it's effect on me, because he'd politely insisted I roll along with him in that warped little store of amazing ideas within his brain. Of course, by _politely _I mean he gave me a shiner and force the thing down my throat… It had been an _experience. _

So three days after our breakout, I'm Rolling…yet again, and unable to open the stupid, fucking pickle jar! How cliché-housewife can you get?

Mr. J was in the next room going over a stack of…bank notices?...in the new study. He'd loved the idea of a workplace _outside _of our bedroom. Somewhere, I'd been informally banned from entering. Not that I ruined things, or got too much in the way, he just liked to think alone sometimes, and his Harley-girl had trouble_ controlling_ herself when medicated.

_-Le Sigh-_

Biting my lower lip, I knocked anyway, then stepped inside. The room was dark, curtains closed on the silver dusk that came with living within the steel city. I greatly appreciated the view we now had, even if it was just the better part of The Narrows. The rich part of course being the _Red Light_ district. I was in walking distance of three bars, 13 whore-bazaars(the curb), and a small underground gambling arena.

Personally, I thought it was cooler than Wayne Towers and such.

"Get out." The Joker didn't even look up or raise his voice. In fact, he sounded almost bored, slapping away a small stack of transaction notices from one of the mob banks in Gotham. It was hard to tell them apart nowadays. I leaned back against the door, clutching the jar to my stomach. Maybe just giving him a moment would help…but he made a small sigh and braced himself against the desk, head hanging. When it lifted and turned, almost robotically, toward me, it was suddenly hard to breathe.

"Wha-**t** do you _want_ Harley?" My mouth bobbed open a few times but he was turning around to face me and my lungs just stopped working. His eyes were cold and slightly narrowed, his fingers clenched around the edges of the desk as he glared me down. Call me crazy, but I didn't think that was a good sign.

"I…um-"

"What was that?" he cupped a hand beside his ear, "Hmm?..._What_?" I continued to trip over my words, "Ex_cuse_ me…?"

I cursed under my breath, taking a moment to get myself together. He was obviously irritated, but not enough to just hurt me. Instead he was intimidating me, which meant I could still walk away from this whole thing.

"I can't open the pickle jar." I blushed at how stupid I'd sounded. It took him a moment to react, but the sideways look was enough to make me press back against the door like I was trying to phase through it. Especially when he stalked toward me. One hand flattened against the wall to my right, the other snagged the bottom of the jar and hefted it away from my hands. Without taking his intense black gaze off of me, he lifted the jar and smashed it against the door frame. Gasping, I curled against the wall blocked by his arm and was nicked by a few pieces of the top half of the jar. When I dared to peek back around at the damage, he was still starring at me, holding the bottom half of the jar aloft. A tiny bit of green liquid still sloshed about at the bottom, along with a couple of it contents.

"Thank you." I squeaked and reached for it. He pulled it back so that I fell against his chest and I tucked my head down, unable to look up at him. I heard something metallic _snick_ open just as someone banged on the door.

"We just got the call, boss. Maroni's new boy is back in town."

"Someone's _luc_-ky." The Joker sing-songed softly in my ear then opened the door and pushed passed me. I released a breath I hadn't meant to hold then shook it off and followed. Halfway to the den, Mr. J stopped and grabbed me. "Ahh…_no_. Go clean up your me**ss**." And I was directed back to the tiny study.

Fine then…I probably didn't want to be there anyway. Not when he was feeling like this. So feeling bad for myself, I spent the next 2 hours trying to straiten up this pigsty apartment and get pickle juice out of the plush carpet. I let the 40 inch plasma blast GCN while I worked in the den and smiled when I saw the Joker's and my mug on a grainy security tape cutting up an adolescent boy. The camera had been angled just enough to catch his legs kicking wildly from under my hold and his hands slapping frantically at the Joker's back. Then, after a bit more fruitless struggling, those hands fell to the floor, twitched once, and went still.

Mike Engle, back in front of the camera after his personal tumble with the Joker, hung his head a moment. "That is…god, the poor kid…" he took a quick breath then looked back up into the camera, clearing his throat.

"_While the official list of persons involved with the Fetchers department store incident has not yet been released, it is rumored that the young man in question is, in fact, _Matthew Kuklinski_, loose relation to _Salvatore Maroni_; who was put in intensive care just last year by none other than the __**Batman**__. It is unknown if the _Kuklinski's_ share the rumored __**mob**__-ties with _Maroni_, but there _is _talk of bitter feelings about this horrible incident."_

I hit mute and sank down into the couch with a tiny frown. And they called_ us_ inhuman. Did these people even know how cold they sounded? It was enough to make me laugh softly and shake my head. The dogs started barking in the front room and I hefted myself out of the cushions and passed the wall-mounted fish tank filled with piranha, to get to them.

Let me stress again how much I didn't mind our new place.

"Hush, Babies! We've got neighbors." I called pushing open their door to have them dash around my legs and into the hall. Snarling and being generally vicious, which was strange when around _me_. Until I heard the male cry of pain, then I was frightened. Mr. J hadn't left anyone with me. I'd been alone in our apartment all night.

Who the fuck was here?

My dogs barked and one yelped before the other two went quiet as well. That didn't bode well for me, so I grabbed my new, red trench off the hook by the door and raced out of it. Anyone who could take out all three of my babies couldn't be a good bet for ol' Harley-girl.

Running down the hall, I burst into the stairwell, only to hear charging feet coming my way. Several of them. Heart racing, I spun back around and went back to the hallway. A man, maybe 3 feet taller than me exploded from our apartment door and slammed it on one of my dogs. I was already running back for the stairwell when he spotted me and started the chase. What the hell was going on? These weren't The Joker's men, and it sure as hell wasn't Batman!

I hit the stairs going up with hopes of reaching another exit. I know there was a fire escape somewhere on the next floor, if I could make it there…but arms wrapped around my middle just as I reached the door, hefting me up off my feet and spinning me into the wall. Crying out angrily, I planted both feet on the cement blocks and kicked off. My assailant and I went stumbling back into the bigger guy who had just gotten up the stairs. Both cursed and I wiggled from the first's grip, leaping over the toppled mountain man and onto the next platform down. Pain, like hot steel shot up my calf and I stumbled into the wall, but grit it back and kept moving. There were maybe 5 other men in the stairwell below me, and I didn't pause when I saw them. Instead, I pulled out my four-inch blade and lept into them. The first guy crumpled under me with my knife in his gut as we fell into the others. I jerked it out with a twist and climbed his chest to jump over them.

One of the assholes, grabbed my ankle midair and I crashed into the cement wall with a resounding crack that had me loopy and slow. Kicking at his arms, I managed to wiggle free and tumble down the next flight of stairs. I could hear them shouting above me, only moments behind. What were they after, I wondered? What did they need _me_ for? The thought sent violent chills through my body while I pulled myself over the railing to fall maybe 6 feet to the bottom floor. I couldn't move for a long moment, but finally managed to drag myself up the wall and tumble out the exit into an alley. Battered and limping, I hurried down the brick passage.

It was dark out now, the only light across the street, and raining. The downpour quickly flattened my hair to my face and weighed down my clothes. I heard the exit creak open behind me and feet stomping toward me as I was met with a chain link fence. Knowing there was no hope of me climbing it fast enough, I spun around and brandished my weapon, gritting my teeth.

"They _said_ you'd be trouble." The nearest guy grinned, looking down at my blade and laughing. "You gunna kill me with your pig-sticker?"

"Worked on the other guy." I spat back, managing to cover the waver in my voice with anger and a well practiced smile. His own leer melted and he growled.

"Bag her."

The boys advanced 4-to-1 and I fought anyway. I was quickly subdued and slammed face-first into the chain link fence, wincing when it rattled and splashed more water into my face. They bent my arms up behind me and snatched away my weapon. All chuckling and having a good ol' time with The Joker's Bitch.

When the talkative one came close with a black sack, however, I panicked. They'd secured my wrists together with zip-ties, but I could still kick and mosh the fuckers away. Not that it work for long. The big guy backhanded me with a grunt and I sagged into the arms of whichever thug was holding me, spitting out blood onto his shoes. The guy lifted his hand for another swing, but the leader stepped between us.

"Alright. Let's not get over-zealous." He glanced at me then nodded to the guy behind. "How bout we settle this the quick way?"

The last thing I remember is white-hot pain coursing through my whole body as every muscle tensed, then the world went black.


	5. Kuklinski

**Forgive this chapter its lateness.**

**My comp got that super-virus thing and nearly melted my hard drive. So that was real fun.**

**So if you get anything with AntiVirus 360 on it…you're probably already fucked.**

**SO!!!**

**Yeah this chapter is kinda blunt. I wanted to get through this quickly.**

**Also, in case any of you wondered, **_**Tyler**_** had green eyes. So look for that. -hint hint- **

**(I know it said blue toward the end of Ace in the Hole, but that was a mistake, and I'm fixing it now.)**

**Well, enjoy and more at the end :D**

We were in a van.

I could tell that much. The men were laughing and horsing around with me between them, proud that they'd bagged the Joker's arm-candy. I hadn't known I was such a prize…to be completely honest it made me feel kinda good.

Of course, I would never admit this to my Puddin', but the pride was still there.

It didn't last long.

Half an hour after being abducted…though I couldn't put my finger on the exact time what with being _black-bagged_…the car slowed, jostling the lot of us against each other. I hissed when an elbow dug into my gut and the thugs laughed.

"Oops." The jerk that'd done it mocked, then grabbed my arm. "But guess we know you're _awake_ now, huh."

Yeah, I was awake, and feeling the after effect on the fucking _taser_ they'd used to take me down. I knew the feeling from Gordan and his super squad taking me in those first months. Muscles tightened until you felt they might rip, then your brain frizzled out and everything went dead for a few second. Enough to make you drop to the floor if only used for a quick shock. These ass-goblins had held it on, and so down went Harley.

The jerk yanked me out of the van, "accidently" dropping my arm and letting me fall into the pavement. They'd secured my wrists in front of me with…zip-ties?...I guess so they could keep track of where I put my hands. They hauled me back to my feet with rancorous laughter and we began walking.

I don't really know how long we went, only that somewhere we had to go down a long flight of stairs. I could hear music somewhere, jazz, and someone laughing pleasantly. Where the hell was I? A men's club?

Then the music was shut off by a slammed door, and I could hear that it had covered the sound of dripping water. Big hands come out of nowhere and forced up my shirt, searching for weapons. I kicked out of him, and got a grunt of pain for my effort. Someone else sank a fist into my gut and I doubled over, nearly falling to my knees.

More hands, and this time I threw myself into the bastard, knocking my skull into his mouth.

"If you touch me again, I'll rip off your fingers and shove them down your throat." I growled out the threat through my bag, which I'm sure was incredibly frightening. Someone chuckled and I was hit.

They must have knocked me out, because then next thing I knew someone was pulling me to my feet, and I felt significantly less dressed than I had been. This was not comforting. We moved quickly back up those stairs and down another hall.

The man guiding me pulled to a sudden stop, jabbing me in the gut to stop me as well. (Why was everyone _doing_ that?) As I struggled to breathe, he knocked on a door and mumbled a few words to someone inside. The door was opened with a grunt from the guard and we stepped inside.

"Mmhm…well give me his number then." The voice was young, playful. I could hear the smile in his voice much like Mr. J, which made me a little nervous. Without warning, the bag was whipped from my head and I squinted at the bright lighting.

"Check her." The man behind the desk said. I could clearly see his face, still adjusting to the light, but I watched him turn in his big black chair with a wireless phone in his hands.

The jerk, a 6 foot mammoth-man in a black tee-shirt and shades, leered at me before lifting my arms and running his hands down my sides. I frowned and jerked away from him so he slapped me. The blow sent me into the man beside us, who shoved me back to the gorilla. I spit blood from my split lip onto the floor and turned a furious gaze on him. By the end of the night, I was going to be one giant bruise.

"Bring it, sweetheart." He growled. I was about to knee his balls into his throat when the boss spun his chair back around and slammed his phone back into its cradle. The message was clear, so Sabertooth stepped back and took hold of my arm again.

"Do you feel better now Max?" the boss straitened his cuff then steepled his fingers and sat back in his chair. The guy had to be in his early 30s…if that. He had black hair, cut in a popular, business style. He had green eyes, which for some reason made me sad. They reminded me of someone, but at the moment, I couldn't remember who.

"Got a little carried away, Mr. Kuklinski." He nodded to the boss, then glanced at me. "It was…taxing, to get her here tonight."

"Oo…big word." I murmured, "Don't strain yourself."

Kaklinski's eyes shot to me, and he gave a tiny smile. "It's good to know you're as much of a handful as they say. I'd be disappointed to find out you were nothing but a pretty accessory."

A swell of anger made me grit my teeth. This man obviously didn't mind me getting hurt, so I shouldn't push it. One of his men hurried to his desk and handed over a cell phone. Kuklinski tapped out a few buttons and I heard the tiny speakers playing the sounds of my capture.

"You and your psychopath murdered my nephew." He spoke bluntly, but in a calm, pleasant tone. Like we were discussing diner arrangements. For a moment, I could only frown, then I remembered the news report, and it clicked.

Oh shit.

"You're _that_ Kuklinski." I said, biting my lip. The mob boss turned his gaze back on me and turned off the video. His expression was slightly confused, like he'd expected a different reaction. Begging maybe. Tear-filled pleas of forgiveness. But Harley wasn't going to play that game.

"So, did you enjoy the show?" I smiled wickedly, "To bad they didn't catch the audio. He screamed for his mommy a few times."

Kuklinski closed his eyes a moment, then turned back to his phone. "They've found the number."

His sadness was instantly covered by a smile and he hit the dial, bringing it to his ear.

"Richard Kuklinski." He said in greeting to whoever was on the line. "I believe the two of us have a bit of a problem."

Was he really talking to who I thought he was? There was no way. My eyes narrowed as they exchanged a few terse words, then the Italian grinned.

"That's very true. He was a little bastard anyway. But I think we both know it's not about that. You went after family, and I'm expected to…_retaliate_."

Mr. J was on the other end of that line. What was he thinking? Was he angry with me? Oh fuck, how much shit was I in for this? I could imagine the beating that was floating in my future. I wished I could hear my Puddin' on the other side.

Kuklinski glanced up at me and winked, which made my stomach roll and I gave a few theatrical gags for his benefit. The Italian chuckled, shaking his head and went back to his phone call.

"Well, I guess I'll just let you see for yourself, since you love making home videos so much, I thought you might appreciate the gesture." Kuklinski watched his boys force me into the chair opposite his. I arched a brow then turned my eyes on the huge man gripping my shoulder and holding me in place. Kuklinski laughed at something that was said over the phone.

I could hear the "movie" he'd made over the gentle static in the phone.

"_If you touch me again, I'll rip off your fingers and shove them down your throat."_

They'd made a tape on the way over. So far, I didn't much care for this new Italian Mob Boss.

"Quite a fighter you've got yourself Mr. Joker." Kuklinski leaned back into his chair and looked up at me with an intensity I didn't appreciate. It made my skin crawl. "She killed one of my boys while they were bringing her in. I must admit, you found a good one. Why don't you say hi to your boyfriend, sweetheart?"

I grimaced at the use of the pet name from this scumbag. It sounded so wrong coming from him. Only Mr. J could give me that certain chill when he called me things like Sweetheart, Baby, or Sweets. When I didn't respond, he nodded toward the mammoth and I got a sharp slap right across the face.

"Son of a bi-"

"Whoa now!" Kuklinski snatched the phone back and frowned at me, "Watch that tongue, baby-girl, or loose it."

Gritting my teeth, I gripped the sharp side of the zip-tie around my wrists and held until my fingers throbbed. When I got the chance, this bastard was going to meet a messy end.

"I'm sure you understand how this works. Strict trade and you'll get her back breathing. Though," he glanced back up at me, scanning my form blatantly, "I can't promise she'll be in one piece. I might just want to take a little for myself." With that, he hung up and I braced myself for whatever the stupid jackoff had planned.

There was a long stretch of silence where the Italian only stared at me. I raised both brows, tapping my thumbs together. Kuklinski stood from his chair, he wasn't the tallest man ever, maybe 5'7", and sat on the corner of his desk. I suppose he was trying to intimidate me with his closeness.

It wasn't working.

"I'm sure you've gotten this more times than you can count, and rightly so, but-"

"Why am I with the Joker?" I asked sounding bored and irritated. The latter was completely authentic.

"Guess you _have_ heard it a few times then?"

I gave a curt smile and slouched down into my chair. Part of me was pissed, but the other half was kind of flattered that they thought I was such a threat. Kuklinski waited a moment, watching me closely and waiting for an answer I had no intention of giving. Sighing, he turned at the waist, remaining perched on the desk, and grabbed a manila folder from inside the top drawer. He flipped through it a few times before stopping on a page and skimming over it.

"Yeah...it says here that 'when questioned about her relationship with known psychopath- hmm, someone's rather rude- The Joker, the patient only smiled and responded that he was "Her Angel". I can only conclude that'…blah-di-blah, blah, blah. SO!" He tossed the folder onto the desk behind him.

"You're _Angel_, huh?" The Italian prick had gotten ahold of my therapy session documents? Christ, the people at jolly ol' Arkham weren't even _trying_ anymore, were they? So, unwilling to show him that I was bothered by this all, I gave a dreamy smile.

"_Yeahhhh_." I sighed, looking up at the ceiling as if I could see him now. This didn't set well with Kuklinski, and he blinked a few times, normal composed expression turning slowly into a frown.

"Angels don't kill, Harleen."

"It's Harley." I shot back, tilting my head, "And someone _obviously_ hasn't read their scripture." I could name a few offhand things right now that Gabriel, my personal favorite, had done to entire cities when _The Wrath_ was upon him. Mmmm…disaster.

Kuklinski opened him mouth to reply, closed it, then shook his head laughing to himself. "Obviously." He agreed looking back at me and stood off the desk, straitening his suit jacket.

If I didn't want to reach down his throat and rip out his lungs…I might have found him incredibly attractive. Unfortunately for me, even the barest notion of cheating on the Joker made me nearly hyperventilate. The _repercussions_ for something as stupid as that…God, I didn't even want to _think_ about it.

"I can see why he keeps _you_ around." He said, pulling me from a mental image of myself sobbing into a puddle of my own blood.

"What?"

He arched his brows mockingly then smiled. "Or maybe not."

With a loud groan of irritation, I dropped my head back against my chair and closed my eyes. "Enough with the pleasant banter. _Fuuuuu_ck **me**! Are you always this charming with your hostages, cuz buddy, if so, I think I might know why you aren't getting respect."

At this, he only watched me, so I pushed farther, wanting to rile him. "Have you ever _spoken_ to a trained professional about being a _fairy_?"

"Excuse me?" that one got his attention and I lifted my head, looking as innocent as I could in leather.

"You know…Uncle leaves you all his mobster super-powers, but you never wanted this life. You _really_ wanted to become a dancer. It's ok though. Hitler was the same way."

"That was painting." He corrected.

"Same diff." I shrugged then flashed a wicked grin, "But cute that you didn't _deny_ it."

Kuklinski jaw clenched and I could tell he was holding back the urge to hit me. Though I didn't know why, he sure hadn't minded his boys knocking me around. Bastard. After a short starring contest, which I won of course, the mobster crossed his arms over his chest and called over his shoulder for Max.

The big Italian bastard lumbered in with a short-bus sounding "Yeah Boss?"

"Take her down to the garage, I think we're about ready to get this whole thing over with."

"I can't wait." I grumbled as the gorilla man-handled me out of the office.

---------------------------

**I was asked why I put in actual lines from the movie into my story, so I wanted to explain that this was not because I couldn't think of anything else to say. This is **_**very much**_** intended. Think of it as a sort of ****Where's Waldo**** type of thing.**

**The person who inspired me to write fan-fiction, forever ago, did the same. I loved being able to spot the "Real dialogue" in her stories.**

**See, writing fan-fiction really doesn't work unless you can write a specific character the way they are portrayed in there book/movie/tv show, right? You're constantly checking to see if your spin of them is correct.**

**Would they really say this? Would they really do that?**

**  
What better way to do that then to take things that they HAVE said or done and twist them into you story. It also becomes a little something extra for the reader.**

**Anyway, this was supposed to be a quick explanation…but oh well, there you have it.**


	6. Love that Dirty Stuff

**Happy Singles-Awareness Day everybody :D**

**Anyway, here's another rather blunt chapter, but don't worry! The next one is…well I'm excited for your feedback on the next couple chapters.**

**I'll be posting chapter 7 later tonight, so look for it. In the mean time, leave me some reviews, darlings.**

**-Willow-**

"I'm not getting in a trunk."

Kuklinski was a pretty efficient guy. A few more phone calls and the whole thing had been arranged. I was kind of surprised Mr. J had agreed to this, but something told me it wasn't just to save his pretty, piece-of-ass girlfriend from the big bad mob boss.

"Can we please be civilized about this?" Kuklinski pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"A civilized person would be riding shotgun."

"Harley…"

"_You_ can ride in the trunk."

"_Harley…_"

"Don't _Harley _me," I snapped, digging my heels into the ground as Sabertooth tried to force me inside the dark metal box. He'd said it was for effects sake, the whole first impressions and all that. I said he could go fuck himself, and here we were.

"Listen, either you get in on your own, or I have my boys stuff you in there the old fashioned way."

I snorted and stood as cockily as I could manage with my wrists still bound. "Your boys are welcome to try, but I know for a fact that that thing is poorly ventilated, cramped, and generally unpleasant, so Fuck. That."

Kuklinski laughed to himself, before running a hand through his hair and taking a slow, calming breath. Realizing there was no hope of winning this argument with me, he turned to his boys and barked out a few orders in what I'm guessing was Italian. They nodded like good little drooggies and grabbed my upper arms.

"The drive is only a half hour, babydoll, so don't worry. I even made sure you had some wiggle room." Kuklinski smiled, pulling a set of keys from his bodyguard's outstretched hand. "It could have been much worse."

"Well aren't you just a sweetheart" I snarled, bracing both feet on the lip of the trunk when the boys tried to lift me in. I've got some pretty strong legs, and with all the running I'd done at the Joker's side, they'd only gotten stronger. Kuklinski was still laughing at the scene I was making when he slid into his hot little black sports car.

**oOo**

Max had ended up bashing both of my knees to get me down long enough to shove into the trunk. I'd managed to haul myself out twice when he finally got pissed and stuck a gun in my mouth.

"Listen to me, _bambina_, I'm not going pretend he wouldn't be pissed if I killed you, but you either get in that trunk, or I'm going to have an unavoidable accident, _convenuto_?"

Call me crazy…I'd agreed. But not before giving him one more kick just shy of the jewels. He'd slammed the trunk with an angry growl, and that was that.

That had been that about 20 minutes ago, and now was getting very old. My legs were cramping, along with my neck. I kept telling myself that if it got any hotter in here, I might just pass out, or even die, so there was at least an upside. Myself slapped me in the face and shouted that there were more important things to worry about.

What was Mr. J gunna say about this whole thing? Was he regretting forcing me to stay home and clean? Did he even care?

The constant swirl of building fears had me completely distracted when the car came to a jerky stop. I think Max might have been driving, so the quick stops and sharp turns had been for my benefit. I guess it was about time I'd met a real thug who wasn't kissing my ass or trying to get a piece of it. It might have been refreshing.

The trunk popped open and I was hit with a cripplingly wonderful blast of cold air. My lungs drew in huge gulps until I was dizzy from the act, and I closed my eyes while they hauled me out of the trunk.

When I opened them, I realized something was off.

We were in a wooded area for starters, which meant a ways out of Gotham. And if that was true then Mr. J wouldn't be here. Scanning my surroundings, I found only a few cars and Kuklinski pulling a cigarette from a gold case. He wasn't looking at me, but came strolling up toward the car I'd ridden in. The snap of his light closing made me tense.

"What is this?" I demanded. The smell of freshly turned earth was filling my nostrils along with a sickly stench of rot. There was death here. Bodies maybe?

He didn't answer, but nodded at Max and moved in front of the truck. The huge thug walked me backwards until my foot slipped off of our path into something deep. I didn't feel the bottom. Suddenly grateful that my hands were bound in front, I latched onto his shirt and pulled in close.

"What is going on?!" this time I yelled and the Italian glanced up from picking at his suit coat.

His smile was charming and bright as he walked up toward us and looked over a smell ledge into what I realized was a big hole. Like a grave.

"This is my own little dumping spot." He replied in an almost childish voice. "shh. Just between us though, right?"

Max shoved me and I stumbled backward, flailing into the pit. It was a long fall. Longer than I'd anticipated and the bottom shot the air right out of my lungs. What was he doing? This was a trade wasn't it? That was his whole point, _wasn't it_?

I rolled onto my side and struggled to find a way out, but there were none. Hands still zip-tied, I wouldn't be able to climb. Something soft was against my back now, and the way it smelled, I knew it was another body. Older, maybe a few weeks, I couldn't really tell. I could still see Kuklinski and the truck. Glimpses of the men surrounding it. My heart was racing because I was starting to get a good idea about what he planned to do.

Then I saw the men with shovels.

"Kuklinski?" I called up at him, looking terrified I'm sure.

"Well, it was kind of a pleasant convenience" Kulinski smiled as he sat against the front bumper of the truck. He began picking his nails with a heavy sigh. "Time?"

"Almost midnight, sir." I couldn't see who answered, but from my place in the hole, I could still see the Italian bastard's smile. He glanced down at me boredly then nodded to the thugs with shovels.

"Go ahead."

When the first chunk of earth hit me, I began to struggle against the stupid zip-ties. They were going to bury me alive. My god, I was going to die!

"Whoa! Hey!" I cried up to him, "What the fuck is going on?"

Kuklinski didn't order them to stop, but replied anyway. "Your meal ticket never called back. I know I said 2 AM, but I just don't want to be out here then."

"What if he calls?!" I rolled onto my side to get the dirt off of me only to roll back with more. The shovelers were going too fast to dodge.

"Well, I suppose we'll have to dig you back up and hope for the best." He winked, then went back to his nails.

_Holy._

_Fucking_.

_Shit_.


	7. Bark, Bark

The idea of being put into the ground thrashing and conscious was terrifying. Watching the ground rise around you and not having the mobility to lift yourself from it.

Kuklinski was a dark man.

I'd realized this as he stood at the top of the grave, head cocked to the side. Simply watching. He didn't even smile. I think that might have scared me the most. I kept thinking that I wanted the security I had with the Joker back. Well, what little security I had with him. It was more like a standing truce. I amused him every once and a while, and inspired ideas and caused scenes. As long as I kept it small enough that he didn't feel outshined, he would keep me alive.

That and I knew that the black hearted thing had a little feelin' for his Harley.

"You should have taken me for a ride more often." I growled into the dirt beacuse, yes; This Harley liked a little vroom-vroom with her Hell's Angel. I couldn't help feeling cheated knowing I'd only gotten some action with the man half numbed by medications. I couldn't go out that way!

Kuklinski suddenly smiled and pulled out his phone a little after they'd covered most of my legs. His hand went up slightly and the shovels slowed, but never stopped.

"I thought you would have let this one go, Mr. Joker." The Italian grinned. Then gave a loud laugh at whatever my Puddin' replied. I spat out a mouthful of earth just when he nodded o Max. I watched as the ogre glanced between the two of us, then kicked in a pile at my head.

"This is defiantly a deal I can work with." Kuklinski said finally, standing strait. He looked down at me, then turned on a heal and went back to his sportscar.

My body shook uncontrollably when they'd finally dug me back out and hauled me out of the hole. Max tried to gode me with little stabs at my cracking ability to smile away my fear. He pushed me about, but got no expression or words and finally gave up.

This time I didn't fight when they wanted me in the trunk. I just let Max pick me up and sit me inside. His smirk usually would have sent me boiling with anger, but at the moment, I was a little numb. I closed my eyes, and breathed in the dizzying heat deeply, hoping the fade a little for the drive.

**oOo**

I could hear the men talking outside the trunk and the domino effect of guns cocking one after another. I knew that every man was aiming at the opposite side, leering for the benefit of their boss, and idly wondered who had more on their side…or were we matched?

The trunk was popped and hands invaded the darkness to drag me unceremoniously out of the car. My foot got caught on the lip and I fell against the pavement with a yelp, biting down hard enough to draw blood on my lip. I couldn't be this pathetic little thing anymore. Not in front of _him._

The thug held my upper arm so tightly it was tingling from lack of blood flow, but I didn't say a word because I could see the Joker across the garage and my heart was rapidly climbing into my throat. He looked so wonderful there, sporting his infamous purple three-piece suit and tossing a switchblade between his gloved hands. He whistled a jaunty little tune as he played, ignoring me completely, though I knew he was completely aware of everything around him. It took a lot not to call out to him or at least try to move toward him, but I managed. He was so close now, and all I wanted was to touch him.

"Alright, you freak," Richard Kuklinski, leaning back against his gleaming black sports car, crossed his arms, "Here's your woman, where's _my_ present?"

The Joker slid the blade back into his coat pocket and smiled. "Your…ah-ha..'_presen-__**t'**_is right here." He glanced back at Alec and motioned toward Kuklinski with his head. The huge, British man reached into their-_our_- van and withdrew a fat silver briefcase. The Joker raised his eyebrows and let them drop again in a playful show of excitement.

At least _someone_ was having fun here.

Alec moved forward and I was suddenly being hauled toward my Puddin', not that I was putting up any kind of fight; this brute was just walking too fast for me to follow. I tripped my way across the garage and met Alec in the middle. For a long moment the two men just glared at each other, then Alec held out the briefcase, and I was shoved into his arms.

I threw the bastard a glare as Alec helped me straiten then turned back toward the clown. His black eyes were boring into me, intense and frightening as ever. Unable to hold his gaze, I dropped my eyes to the concrete and shuffled forward.

"Put this on." Alec nudged my arm, handing over a thick length of chain. It was connected in the center by two silver rings, one around the chain itself and the other acting as a sort of stopper. The thing fit around my neck easily enough and hung down just between my collarbones, like some huge chain necklace. It was heavy, but glinted under the florescent lights of the garage and didn't look half bad, though I wondered why I deserved a present too. Because there was always a catch.

"You should keep a closer eye on that one. "Kuklinski smiled, pushing off his car to inspect the stacks of money within the briefcase, then snapped it shut and turned back to us. "Maybe put her on a leash."

The Joker followed me with his dark eyes until I stood just beside him and licked his lips. "My thoughts ex-_act_-ly." He replied then snapped his fingers. One of the men beside our van ducked into the vehicle and pulled out something that glinted when he tossed it over to the Joker. My heart began to hammer when I realized it was in fact a chain leash with thick links just like my necklace and a red nylon strap at its end.

He motioned me over impatiently and clipped the leash to what I now realized was a choke collar for large dogs. _My_ dogs. I opened my mouth to speak, but in a flash the Joker had looped the length of chain around his wrist and pulled it tight. The choke collar clinked tighter around my throat and I sucked in a breath, hands impulsively shooting up to grab the offensive thing.

"See, Harley here _knows_ that she did ba-**d**." He searched my face with an expression of rage that had me whimpering, and jerked the leash again. I gagged, unable to breath and widened my eyes, glancing over toward Kuklinski who looked about as shocked as me.

What had he expected, _hugging_?

The Joker yanked on the leash again and my mouth bobbed open, desperate for air, but he didn't think I deserved it. White lights were flashing behind my eyes and I was starting to get a bit light-headed, but I knew better than to struggle.

"Next time you get yourself _abducted," _he growled, "pray that he kills you. Because _this-" _he motioned around the garage with his free hand, "_won-__**t**_ happen again."

I nodded desperately then fell to my knees when he relieved the tension in the leash. God, air was a wonderful thing! I gulped it in with greedy lungs and fought to stop the violent coughing that came with my newly opened throat. There would be bruises, I had no doubt.

"You're a sick man, Joker." Kuklinski looked disgusted now and shook his head; looking down at me like I was some abused dog…I guess I _was._ "I still say you could do better." (I don't know which of us he was referring to. Maybe both.) Then with a heavy sigh, he visibly put it out of his mind and turned his attention back on the clown. "On _that_ note, I suppose our business here is done."

Mr. J's lips peeled back into a smile. "Yeah…well…no**t** _quiiite_."

There was the sound of guns being jerked back to attention and Kuklinski spun back to face us while I struggled to my feet, forgotten though the Joker still held my leash.

"What the hell does _that_ mean?" he demanded, fist clenching.

The Joker cupped one hand beside his mouth and fluttered the other toward the thug with the briefcase. "Check the box." He spoke in a theatrical whisper and nodded encouragingly. His hand dropped to his side to drum impatiently on his thighs.

Kuklinski nodded the OK to his lackeys, frowning angrily and waited.

"It's just the cash, boss." The thug looked almost frightened, but Mr. J cleared his throat.

"Dig just a _liiiitle_ deeper."

So he did, then recoiled as if he'd discovered a snake in the bottom of the case. "Uh, boss..?"

Kuklinski shot a glare toward us then hurried over to the hood of his car where the briefcase sat. Upon seeing the inside, he gave a furious growl and clawed the remaining bills out onto the floor. Whatever was on the bottom of that briefcase really didn't make him too happy.

He swept the case onto the concrete and spun to face us, pulling a gun of his own.

"Where the fuck is she?" he demanded, face red, "Where is Teresa?"

Things were getting interesting.

The Joker laughed and shook his head, "Well she's not_ here_; that's for sure. It'd be a shame if she found out what Daddy _really_ did to keep her supplied with lollipops and dollies."

"If you touch so much as one hair on her head, I'll-"

"Now now." The Joker grinned madly and I realized he was holding a gun of his own, though I don't know where or when he got it. How many hidden pockets did he have?

Kuklinski was breathing heavily in his rage, eyes wide and glassy. It seemed Daddy really loved his little girl. After a moment he shook his head. "We were even!" he exclaimed incredulously, "This made us square, what are you doing?!"

I didn't say it, but I had the same question. What _was_ he doing, pissing off mob bosses?

Mr. J sighed and moved forward, heedless of the gun aimed strait at his chest. I guess we all knew Richard Kuklinski couldn't shoot him. Not if he wanted his sweet, little Teresa back.

"Ya see, _Dick, _I don't really _want_ to be even. I like the thought of you doing ex-_**act**_-ly what I tell you so that little Teresa comes home with_out _all those nasty acid burns."

Kuklinski's expression showed unadulterated terror at the casual threat and his gun slowly dropped to dangle uselessly at his side. The Joker (dragging me in tow) walked right up beside him, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as the man stared blankly out at the ground.

"So that's the_ real_ trade here, _Dick_. You and your boys there are gunna work for me now, understood? We're gunna be the _best_ of friends and _then_, maybe Teresa can come home and we'll pretend none of this _eeee_ver happened. Hmm?"

The mobster, looking very much like a lost child about now, closed his eyes and drew a shaky breath, "Ok..just _please_…don't hurt her."

Mr. J clapped him on the back with an amiable chuckle. "Well that's en-_tirely_ up to you, isn't it…_buddy_?"

I almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost. But this is what happened when you did business with the Joker and didn't cover your bases. Family was always the first to be sacrificed, and that was code with _all_ criminals, not just my Puddin'.

Kuklinski shrugged out of the Joker's grip to glare at his chest, jaw clenched until I could make out the vein ticking there. His knuckles were white in there fists and he waited like the good little puppet he was now for orders. Of course, Mr. J let him simmer a bit before he laughed and nodded toward the sleek sports car beyond us.

"Go home to that _pretty_ little wife of yours, _Dicky-boy_. I'm sure she could use a little _reassurance_ right about now."

"And what exactly can I tell her?" he grit out.

Mr. J shrugged, fiddling with my leash absently. "I'm sure you'll think of _some_thing. You always do." Then he laughed. "Maybe you could convince her to start fresh. Teresa _Mark __**2**__."_ More laughter and he blatantly ignored the look of seething hatred directed at him from Kuklinski. The man couldn't touch him, and we all knew it.

The men waited for us to get into the van before lowering their guns and I glimpsed Kuklinski in his car, gazing at what must have been the picture from the brief case, just before the door slid shut and encased us in near darkness. I moved to sit in the bench seat, but yelped when the choke collar snapped tight around my throat and I was forced onto my knees before the Joker. He'd wrapped the chain around his forearm and now held me up on my knees with a sneer.

"_You_," he hissed as I struggled to breathe and keep his gaze, "are in _biii__**g **_trouble."

Alec started the van, after a quick sympathetic glance into the rearview mirror and I blinked away tears.

Seems Kuklinski wasn't the only one that was going to have a hard night.


	8. Black and Blue

My entire body was shaking now, though I tried to still myself. I sat at the Joker's feet in the van, clinging to his pant leg. Was he really going to hurt me that badly for the Italian? I'd fought, hadn't I?! Tried to get away from them. I'd cursed and spit at them, fought whatever orders I was given, so why was I still in trouble?

This took me back. Back to the days of punishment without reason.

The van pulled to a shaky stop and Mr. J looked down at me, wrapping my leash back around his forearm. He rolled open the door and jumped out, pulling me harshly behind. Alec closed his door softly, keeping his eyes on us to gage the damage. He'd step in if he thought the Joker was going to explode in a rage, wouldn't he? I'd seen him open that mouth for a lot of stupid reasons, though they always benefitted him, I suppose.

"Puddin'?" I hurried after him as we walked passed my babies pen. They barked and carried on in the garage, and all were unhurt and happily wagging their tails at me. A tiny weight slid from my shoulders knowing that the Italian bastards hadn't hurt my sweet babies. The Joker was leading us into the back end of this temporary compound. I suppose the apartment was compromised, which really blew.

"Puddin', please. I tried to-"

The whole room went silent when he slapped me, and the sound echoed. Working my jaw a few times, I turned back to him with slightly narrowed eyes. It was one of several mistakes.

"Wee-he-hee" he giggled, raising his eyebrows at me and grinning. I quickly dropped the facial fuck-you to shake my head, but his grabbed my chin and held it in place. I was forced to stare into his obsidian gaze, feeling exposed and helpless. My hands were still bound by their zip-ties, which made me even more nervous.

"Maybe it would be bes**t** if you stopped **speaking**, _hmm_?"

Biting down hard on my bottom lip, I gave a jerky nod and let him lead me down the hall. The comforting sounds of the boys milling about quickly died when the Joker shoved me into the back room and slammed the door.

I jumped from the sound, and fought back the tears that already threatened to burst forth and embarrass me. The Joker dropped my leash halfway threw the room and went to a small closet door. I suppose this would be our room. Along with that thought came a wave of panic. If this was our room, I could be in _real_ trouble.

I'd been punished in the workrooms, along with other victims. I had the scars to prove it. But when the Joker was feeling real nasty, or knew he'd be playing for most of the night, we stayed in our room, where he could just throw me to the floor and flop into bed when he was finished.

I watched him rooting through the closet and mumbling to himself. Every once and a while, he'd pull out some object,( a blade, a bullwhip, 2 lengths of rope,) and would shake his head and throw them over his shoulder. Each object had my heart racing until he tossed it, only to fear his need for the next. Sometimes I wondered if he understood how frightening it was to stand in a room with him, knowing you were in trouble.

I'm sure he did, and was using it against me right now.

"No no no," He was mumbling as he spun around to scan the room. I kept to myself in the center of the thin carpet of what used to be a conference room. He stormed passed me and began tossing about piles of our things that had been taken from the apartment. _Gee our boys worked fast_, I thought idly before the Joker gave a victorious laugh and pulled a thin cane from a mountain of junk like it was Excalibur.

My quick gasp jingled the leash and his eyes suddenly snapped to me from the side. The wolfish smile that curled this side of his mouth made my gut clench. What was he thinking, right now? Should I try to run? Not that I thought I could get away from him, if he really wanted to kill me.

The Joker whistled and beckoned me with a gloved finger. Trembling and gripping my chain, I slowly obeyed. He slid out of his coat and tossed it across the desk to our right, then pulled his gloves off, one finger at a time. His eyes never once strayed from my face, and when I finally stood in front of him, I had to look down.

"I had plans tonight, Harley." Like scolding a child. He stared down at me and frowned. The Joker was disappointed in me, and it hurt. I felt new tears envelope the old ones. I felt almost guilty that I'd gotten kidnapped. I'd ruined his plans tonight. How could I?

"I didn't mean to, Mr. J, honest! They just showed up and I didn't know who they were, and-"

The cane came down against my side and I jerked away, yelping in pain. How had he moved so fast? I didn't have time to wonder. He swung the length of wood back around, this time snapping it across my back. It arched in reflex and I grit my teeth against the whimper.

"I told you to _Sto__**p**__. Talking_." He growled the last words, before smiling brightly again. "Are you finished?" I nodded toward the carpet ."Good."

"I promised the Batman a show, Harley." He circled my with the cane tapping lightly against his pant leg. I remained huddled into myself, watching him from beneath my tangled blonde hair. "Tonight was supposed to be_ fun_. I'd watch Batsy wiggle about under all his precious rules, and maybe cause a few obituaries, but **no**."

The cane snapped down across my left thigh, then I wheezed when it hit me in the gut and my body tipped forward. I managed to catch myself and landed on hands and knees at his feet, coughing into the floor.

"I'm a man of my _word_, **Harley**." He grit out my name as he fisted my hair and lifted me up onto my knees. I was crying now, from the throbs of pain and the humiliation. Here I was with a collar and leash around my neck, being scolded like and animal and beaten. Part of me wondered why I'd been so desperate to get back to the man.

Along with the mutinous thought, came a strike across my back again. I bit down my sob, but could only muffle the noise. The pain was making my stomach heave, and tiny black dots were swimming at the edges of my vision. Still I kept my trap shut, like he'd told me, and let him get it out. There were worse things he could do, and I was just lucky he didn't.

"You made me brea**k** my word." He said, voice dropping a few octaves in the last half. The cane snapped down over my back once more, and I crumpled forward, panting. My vision faded to black and few times while I drank in gasps and tried not to throw up. I wanted nothing more that to plead my case, but refused to open my mouth.

The wood whistled through the air and I tensed for the next blow, but it never came. The Joker was chuckling to himself above me. After a moment, the cane slid under my chin and coaxed me up onto my elbows. I swallowed and looked up at him, blinking away my tears.

"I do have a new** buddy** now, don't I?" He dropped the cane back down, but I stayed up just in case. "I can think of a _couple _fun things to do with _him_." I remained cautious as he knelt down and smoothed a hand in my hair. "I suppose you did a _little_ good tonight, hmm? Maybe you haven't ruined _every_thing."

Another guilty drop in my gut, and he helped drag me to my feet. I stumbled a bit, my legs shaking violently, but in a twist, he scooped me up into his arms and walked me to the bed. I huffed when he dropped me down on the mattress, but couldn't move. The Joker leaned down, and planted a sloppy kiss on my temple, then patted my head. A knife glinted out of nowhere to snip the zip-ties that had cut into my wrists, then disappeard again.

"Good girl." He grinned and gathered up my leash looping it around the head rails. I knew he was talking to me like I was a dog again, but I didn't really mind. I'd made him happy. I'd had to piss him off to do it, but the result was the same. My pain seemed to dull in a heartbeat and I beamed happily up at him. It was easy to drift off once he'd left the room and I knew that everything was better again.


	9. In Between

**Heath Ledger won the Oscar!!!!!!!!!**

**I had originally planned on releasing this chapter then same day as the next, but I think I'll post it early.**

**O Mata Luna! Thank you! He deserved it!**

**So here is your snippet chapter, very short, slightly uneventful, I'll admit, but leading to a much better…interesting new bit of information in the next one. Don't worry, I'll be posting the next one in the next few days.**

**(Yay again for Heath!!!)**

**^_^**

**Also, this would have been posted RIGHT after he won, but the site had that stupid glitch were I couldn't log in. Sorry.**

**And now, A tiny dose of **_**reality**_**.**

**ALEC's POV**

"Alec! _Allllleeeecccc_!" The Brit jumped out of his sleeping chair when he heard her squealing. It was a far too girly a sound to come from such a femme fatale, but he just guessed they came in all shapes. Even wee, bouncy, cutesy ones.

He was about to demand she calmly explain what was wrong, when she flew around the corner and smacked against him. He gazed down at his shirt and groaned, seeing that it was now splotched in blood. She bopped back down on her bum and paused to wiggle her hands at her sides like they were covered in poison. Too distracted to realize he'd let her fall.

"You've got _red_ on you." He chuckled, recalling the time they'd watched _Shaun of the Dead_ together (he'd been ordered to watch her at the apartment) and the way she'd loved that bit. With his accent, it got even a tiny grin from her, before she stood and stretched out her hands.

"He squirted at me!" she cried, hopping from one foot to the other, "It was so gross. It got in my mouth! Help me get it off!"

Eyebrows raised, he bit back a wicked responce,(because _really_; Double Entandre much?) glanced toward the door, and held up both hands. "Don't you have a man for that, love? My job doesn't permit me to undress you."

Harley rolled her eyes and pushed him. "He's not back yet, you big baby. I came with Little Craig."

Relaxing now that his _wrinkles_ weren't near the hacksaw, Alec followed her. She disappeared into their personal bedroom and he had to pause. It was only a moment, but his instincts told him he was entering the king's chamber, and the king really didn't like to share. He easily pushed it aside and stepped through the door them hurried to follow her into the tiny bathroom. It had been altered some to add a shower, but was still small.

Harley had already gotten the thing unbuttoned (which was impressive) and was holding out her arms so he'd grab the sleeves. Sighing heavily, he peeled the fabric off of her skin and over her head. It dripped blood, which told him she'd been coated _before_ the guy allegedly "squirted" her.(again...the imagery) Now the wee, little chit was smeared in blood and wearing only a mini skirt and her black bra.

"Bloody hell, woman, what have you been _up_ to?"

She caught his eyes in the mirror and instantly dropped them, brow furrowing slightly, she stared blankly into nothing. He wondered if she even realized she was doing this. Did she _understand_ what she'd seen? The girl was sane enough for the most part, but something had obviously been flipped off in her brain. Maybe she didn't really let herself _process_ what she witnessed at the Joker's side; simply filed it away and smiled off the sickness.

Sure enough, the frown eased away moments later and she wrinkled her nose at him, adorably "I need to get another shirt."

He balled up the other as she toweled away the blood from her body and scurried back into her shag nest. This time it was his turn to frown. As she cleared the blood away, he saw that her pale skin wasn't as perfect as it looked. Several long, green bruises ran the length of her spine and halfway up her back. The lines crossed each other at different angles.

How long ago had she gotten those, he wondered and glanced up at her pigtails bouncing around toward the closet. He tried to recall the last time **they'd** been together alone for a while, and instantly remembered the night she'd been abducted. The Joker had planted 3 bombs around Gotham and was going to watch Batman go after them, but they'd been forced to save _her_ instead. Alec remembered the slight irritation at finding out she couldn't protect herself against 6 was supposed to be the **Joker's** girlfriend. Seeing this, he realized she couldn't even do it for one. The Joker had _beaten_ her with something, and here she was smiling and pretending it had never _happened_. That made her strong, but not necessarily smart.

"Thanks, Alec." She called from the bed, cleaning off the blood that hadn't dried. "Could you toss that shirt into the wash?"

"Sod off, do it yourself." He turned to leave, but pulled up short to find the Joker at the doorway. For a moment, he tensed for trouble, but the clown wasn't starring at him angrily or being generally vicious. Instead he nodded slightly before Harley dashed over, her replacement shirt forgotten, or purposefully left. He suspected the latter.

"Puddin'!" She exclaimed and cooed when his arm went around her shoulders. Alec couldn't help it, his eyes shot strait to the bruises and stared now that they were close. When he finally looked back up, the Joker was watching him, knowingly. A horrible, close-lipped smile twisted his mouth and Alec took that as his que to sod off. With a bow of his head for respect, he left the room and closed the door behind him, they were about to engage in some freaky post-massacre shag thing, and he wanted no part in that! Not that he hadn't mused over sneaking a good tumble with the Joker's trollip. He just wasn't an idiot, or hopelessly in love with the bint, like his predecessor.

He'd just get himself to the closest bar and find a pretty little bird of his own. Someone with loose morals and far too much alcohol in her system. Yes…that was the plan. Anything to get away from thoughts of that door; or what the Joker was doing to his woman behind it.

**Harley Quinn**

I jolted awake when something heavy thunked against my skull. For a moment, there was only pain and confusion, but then the Joker was pulling me out of our rumpled bed and pushing me towards the door.

"Bust busy busy. No time to waste." He stopped beside the abused dresser and started tossing things out of it, searching for a shirt. My eyes moved, guiltily to the cracked mirror then back to the Joker. Last night had been…interesting. I got a quick flashback of being slammed into that mirror, but ignoring the glass slicing my back for the clown _going down_ _on me_.

I don't really know how things had lead up to that point, not that I was complaining or anything, it was just _shocking_. Mr. J had always been a bit of a selfish thing. **That** had not been selfish.

"_Harley_." The Joker was shaking a tiny scrap of material in my face and watching me with irritation. I quickly took the…shirt?...and tried to pretend my focus hadn't been on other things. He knew of course, and pointedly looked at the mirror, then me, and smiled.

I blushed as I pulled the tight, half shirt over my bare skin. Was it just my humiliation, or was it really hot in here? I decided a change in topic would be nice.

"Where are we going?" I asked, pulling on the pleaded, red, school girl skirt he handed me. I might have asked why I was being dressed like this. Why he was in such a hurry. Why he didn't do that thing with his tongue more often…shit! Off-track again! Get a grip Harley!

"We_lllll_," he twirled around to the desktop near the wall and began pocketing his blades. "I've got a little business with my new **buddy**."

I paused, not just because he popped out with a strait answer, but because spending time with Kuklinski was not on my to-do list at the moment.

"Do you need me for _moral support_?" I asked, arching a brow. The Joker gave me one of those looks that let's me know shutting up is best, then went back to loading up. He checked the magazine of a small, silver handgun, then tossed it to me. I slid it into the holster beneath my knee-high combat boots.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked finally as we moved for the door. For a moment, he ignored me, then after opening the door, he smiled.

"You just make him feel _com_fortable."

I nodded. So I was going to fuck with his head. _That_ sounded appealing. As I was walked out the door, Mr. J slapped my ass, and I honestly tried not to smile about it.

Today would be fun.


	10. And the word is

**Ok, I know I promised there'd be a chapter much sooner, but I'm going through some personal shit right now. I just got a rather obnoxious e-mail about "disrespecting my fans" so I'm a little pissed.**

**You know who you are, and next time the guy I've mooned over since I was **_**13**_** starts coughing up blood, **_**AGAIN**_**, I'll just go ahead and tell him I can't be there for him because I've got people living hundreds of miles away that can't wait for me to post the next chapter in a story online.**

**To everyone else who**_** isn't**_** a raging fuck-nugget, I'm sorry it was late, but what more can I say?**

**Also, just so there are no questions when you get to it. The name is pronounced "Dare-E-N" **

Ok. The school-girl slut gear had lost its appeal.

I was trying not to move from my corner of the elevator, desperate not to flash anymore ass at the boys. Though, now that I thought about it, we were standing in a giant mirror. They'd probably been sneaking looks to snicker the whole ride. If Mr. J had wanted me as a distraction, my too-short skirt and half-top were definitely doing their job.

I might have gotten more adventurous since my life began with the Joker, but this was a little far.

The elevator dinged, saving us from anymore of its music, and Mr. J suddenly snaked an arm around my lower back and tugged me against him. Of course, the pain from my bruises made me stiffen and bite back a pathetic little sound. He ignored it and I, in turn, pretended not to notice the glances from our boys.

_They're love-wounds_, I corrected them silently.

The doors slid open and we were staring down the barrels of _**way too many**_ automatics. Kuklinski obviously knew we were coming. His welcome party seemed equally shocked when the Joker simply shouldered through their ranks, dragging me along. Our boys were pulling guns, but knew better then to aim them just yet. Technically, Kuklinski's men were_ our_ droogies now; they just didn't realize it yet.

"Well, look at that. The circus just rolled in." I recognized the voice but couldn't place it. The Joker released me to turn a cocked head toward the speaker. When I followed, my gut clenched. It was the cocky bastard who'd led my kidnapping! The one who'd mocked me for defending myself with a switchblade.

The guy was leaned back against the wall next to Kuklinski's office. He flipped open an intricately etched, butterfly knife, tapping the edge against his thigh. (I suppose this was his version of intimidation.) All I really cared about was the dangerous smile slowly creeping over the Joker's face. Stepping back I caught the douche with a heavy stare.

"You gunna do something with that pig-sticker?" I asked, letting him know I remembered him. From the flash of humor in his eyes, he was remembering that night as well. Mr. J's hand was "resting" in his pocket, ready to pull out a wicked surprise, when Kuklinski burst from his office.

He didn't look as professional as he usually did. The shadow of stubble darkened his cheeks and his hair was slightly out of place. His suit was rumpled and hanging open, the tie flung over his shoulders. I wondered if he'd even tried to look decent today. Not that he didn't. Kuklinski was still an attractive guy, he just looked exhausted. Stretched to his limits, and seconds from total meltdown.

His eyes scanned the hallway quickly. Gauging the damage, I suppose. When he saw the Joker's stance, and the asshole's knife, his face darkened with color. "**Darien!**"

Even I jumped at the boom of his voice. The asshole in question, tensed, his jaw clenching. Was I seeing things, or did this dumbass really think he was being _cheated _out of a fight. I would have laughed in pity for him had the thought not come with a follow-up.

Darien struck me as a Jock-like personality. He ridiculed the strange to feed his own struggling ego. His picking a fight with Mr. J had been a stupid attempt at gaining back his bully badge.

_See! Look at how cool I am! I got the Joker. Sure, he nearly spilled my tiny guts across the hardwood, but I still tried it!_

Ugh. Pathetic. And a potential problem.

"We were just _clowin'_ around, boss." Darien smiled at his own quip then stuck the closed butterfly knife into his back pocket. My eyes zeroed in on the glint of tempting steel peeking from his jeans. Well, Mr. J was quelled; too eager to show Kuklinski our surprise that he walked right passed the idiot and into Kuklinski's office. I was still in the hall with the Italian and his lackey. The same bitch who'd been gung-ho to hurt me during my abduction.

_Revenge was in order._

Kuklinski looked me over once, taking in my costume and I blew a bubble with my gum for effect. He eyed me with a certain distaste that made my blood warm. Fine then. New game plan. _Distraction Time_.

"If you'll excuse me, Ms…Quinn?" he let the end drag as if it were dirty and my eyes narrowed. Someone was in a pissy mood. "I'll just need a minute with Darien here, if you would join your _master_ inside…"

"My _**what**_?" I growled, but suddenly Alec was at my back and propelling me forward into the large office. I made a point of bumping into the asshole on my way in and letting my hand brush his ass. If he felt it, he would think I was getting flirty. Not that I'd just swiped the butterfly knife from his back pocket to later slip into my boot.

Mr. J was at the desk, picking through files that lay scattered across the hardwood. He glanced up at me once I entered then over my shoulder and back. He was asking why I wasn't with Kuklinski, making with the mind-fuck. I'd been given a job here and so far I wasn't doing it. Alec let the office door fall shut and went to lean against the back cabinet. From there he would have a view and aim of the whole room. Sometimes it made me smile when we looked this organized.

The Joker gave a random heavy sigh and tossed a file back onto the desk, ignoring the fact that its contents spilled onto the floor. "I hate waiting." He divulged then perked up when the Italian came in with his sulking thug.

Kuklinski's eyes once again went to me, but quickly skipped to the Joker who was digging through the second drawer of his desk. He didn't find what he wanted but pulled out a bottle of scotch instead. I caught the edge of a reminiscent smile on his grease-painted face, but he quickly lost it to greet his…**buddy**.

"Did you put the dog in his place?" he asked, idly pouring a glass of amber liquid he had no intention of drinking. Kuklinski winced, his expression becoming slightly strained and I wondered just how expensive he liked his alcohol.

"It's been dealt with." He answered shortly then moved to his desk slowly, watching Mr. J as if he might attack. "Now, would you mind explaining this visit? I _am_ a busy man."

The Joker grinned at that and handed Kuklinski the glass as he sat down behind his desk. The Italian swirled the liquid suspiciously and set it down on the desk again.

"That's ex-_act_-ty why we're here, Dicky-boy." The Joker moved around to the front of the desk so he could look at Kuklinski directly. "You _have_ been a busy man."

I took this time to slink around Kuklinski's desk and hop up onto it. He gave me a little glare before returning his attention to the clown. I crossed my legs daintily and blew another pink bubble with my gum.

"Forgive me, but what exactly is it you're implying?" the Italian asked calmly, leaning back in his chair to pretend he was at ease. But from where I sat, I could see the sweat at his brow. He knew he was in trouble.

The Joker raised both brows and nibbled his bottom lip then motioned to Alec who immediately stood and went to the door.

"Now Richard, there's no need to get fresh." My Puddin' shook his head while Alec conferred with one of our guys right outside. He nodded once and took a brown shipping box into the office. The Joker motioned toward me and I took it from my position on the desk, plopping it down between the mob boss and myself. His eyes went to the brightly wrapped "present" then up at the clown. Ignoring this, Mr. J began to pace, getting excited.

"You've got to be kidding me." Darien mumbled, watching the present in its bright yellow and red birthday paper, covered in balloons and clowns. Kuklinski shot him a pointed look while Mr. J smirked.

"It's so hard to find_ good_ help these days." He said, giving Darien a once-over then decided he wasn't worth the time. "I mean, the kids just don't seem to understand **respect** anymore." His eyes narrowed suddenly and his smile became predatory. "Or _loyalty_."

I took my que when Alec coughed. With a glance at Darien, I pulled his butterfly knife from my boot and expertly flipped it open. His mouth dropped open in rage and he instinctively slapped a hand down on the last place it had been.

_Take that._

"You bi-"but the Joker had turned his attention back on the pathetic thug and he decided to get quiet. I arched a brow and smirked at him as I offered the blade to Kuklinski. I crinkled my nose as a fetid stench rolled out of the packagewhen he opened it and Kuklinski stiffened. His vivid, green eyes zeroed in on the contents and he paled. I watched his grip tighten around the knife, knuckles turning white, and I thought for a moment, that he would stab me.

"Harley." The Joker said shortly, and I grit my teeth. Well damn…guess I was the dirty Work Girl today. What can ya do, though. With a bit of a sigh I reached into the box and curled my fingers around the blood-matted hair of a 35 year old man named Byron Transki. By the way Kuklinski's lips thinned, he knew him.

But we were already aware of that.

"Holy shit!" Darien's eyes were huge as we all gazed at the severed head. Its lips were sewn shut and a tiny corner of white peeked out between the stitches. Kuklinski let his eyes close a moment then looked back up at the Joker.

"You just never know who you can trust now-a-days." the clown sighed. I leaned forward, popping another bubble with my gum as if this were the most normal things I could be doing. I plopped the head down on top of Kuklinski's files and pointed to the sewn lips.

"Look inside." I encouraged. His eyes were dark now, intense and clouded, but he grabbed the front of the hair and sliced through the stitches without response. I took the knife from his grip and flipped it back closed, ignoring the sound of indignation that came from the far corner when I slipped it back into my boot. Kuklinski's fingers twitched once before reaching out to part the grey, puckered mouth, withdrawing a slip of paper from between the teeth. On it, in Kuklinski's own hand, was the address of a local strip club in the Narrows. It was the place you went to find disposable help.

The same place Byron Transki had approached Alec for a job only weeks ago. Byron had kept the directions in his pocket.

The Joker leaned forward, inspecting the head , then the note. "It's no-**t** nice to_ spy_ on your friends, **Dick**."

Kuklinski let out a breath and shook his head. "He was there long before we made our…arrangement." He spoke through clenched teeth.

"I _know _that." Mr. J rolled his eyes glancing at me when I reached forward and began straitening up Kuklinski's suit. He didn't have the power to hit me or tell me to stop, so I let it drag on as the Joker spoke.

"But no matter. _You're_ going to make it up to me."

"How's that?" the Italian asked, glaring between me and the Joker.

"You're boys are going to pull a _liiiiittle_ job for me." Mr. J replied with a smile.

"My men aren't into the whole terrorist thing." Kuklinski said. He thought we wanted them to plant a bomb? I let myself smile and shake my head as I straitened his tie. When I'd finished I scooped up his scotch glass and downed the expensive liquid. Kuklinski shot me another glare then looked back to the clown.

"_No no no."_ The Joker shook his head violently with each word, then leaned against the desk. "Me and the misses were looking for a decent chunk of change. I'm sure you know where we could find some."

"A bank job?" the mob boss asked in surprise. He glanced up at me, but I was too distracted by the Joker's words.

_Me and the misses._

It sent a pleasant chill down my spine.

"I thought you're rule was no money-grubbing" Kuklinski asked bitterly. Mr. J frowned and shook his head.

"I don't have _rules_." He corrected. "But money is useful against other people. All you _venal_ businessmen and your ob_session_ with The Dollar."

I think we were all taken a little aback at the use of vocabulary, but Kuklinski managed to keep the conversation on track.

"So you'll take money when it's nessisary. Fair enough. But why should I get it for you?"

I sucked in a breath when the Joker's arms snaked around my waist from behind, pulling me across the desk and against his chest.

"_Because, _silly. I **told** you to." As if this was the most obvious answer in the world. Mr. J rested his chin on my shoulder, tightening his grip until I made a tiny sound of pain and arched my back away from him. Kuklinski's brow furrowed as he watched, and he met my eyes. The look in his eyes made me flush with an almost shame, but I quickly pushed it away. So he knew I was banged up, what did it matter right?

"Is that how this works now?" Kuklinski asked softly, his gaze moving finally back to the Joker so that I could relax. The clown laughed and let his hand trail down my side.

"I'm sure it won't be hard for you, Dick." His grin was wide and playful as he slid away from the desk, leaving me breathless. It wasn't easy to avoid Kuklinski's eyes as I hopped off the desk and straitened my skirt. Not that it did much good. The Joker took my arm and gave little wave to his new bitch.

"You know how to reach me."

Pulling me close we moved for the door and I rested my head against his shoulder. I'm not stupid, I know this was just him showing off his little toy. (He'd finally gotten wind that I was a trophy-fuck) when the novelty of my situation wore off, he'd go back to treating me like normal, but until then I would enjoy this.

"Wait a minute!" Suddenly Darien was in our way. The Joker cast him a disinterested glance then released my arm. "You want to hand over my property?" he demanded holding out a hand as if I would even consider giving it back.

"Possession's nine tenths, and all that." I beamed, tilting my head. "So, if you'll excuse me."

I tried to step around him, but the asshole grabbed my upper arm and yanked me back.

"I want my fucking knife back you stupid little bi-"

The Joker moved too fast for me to catch. One moment he was standing by the door, the next he was between us and fisting the shoulder of Darien's shirt. The smaller man grit his teeth to cover his fear and pointed at me.

"She stole my shit! I just want It back is all."

Mr. J's expression was blank as he gazed at him. I squeaked when he reached down with his left hand and pulled the butterfly knife out of my boot. I bit back the complaint and only glared at Darien.

"_This_ knife?" The Joker asked slowly, tossing it in the air then flipping it open when he caught it. Darien gave a jerky nod and straitened his shirt now that he was free.

"I want it back is all." He repeated holding out a hand. Mr. J gave me a once over then turned back and shrugged.

"Sure thing." He said, then stabbed it through Darien's hand in into the wall next to the door.

The thug screamed, high and loud making me wince, but the expression quickly became a smile when I saw the tears in his muddy, brown eyes. The Joker smiled, throwing his arm around my shoulders and nodded to Kaklinski who was rubbing his temple with closed eyes.

"I'll tell Teresa you said howdy." He grinned maliciously and Kuklinski's eyes snapped open, but he didn't move. I was kind of curious to know what was going on with the little runt. She wasn't being held at the compound, I knew. A little girl crying would be hard to miss in that echo-y place.

We finally went for the door, and I noticed Alec standing strait, removing his hand from under the back of his shirt where I'm sure he'd been palming a gun. He looked pointedly at the whimpering Darien then back to me and arched an eyebrow. So I stuck out my tongue. Mr. J was humming some disjointed lullaby about evisceration and ignoring us all. As he stepped through the door I swept one, last glance over the room, gauging the damage and paused. In a cluster of pictures on the wall was a shot of Kuklinski and three other people. All were in their late teens and smiling brightly for the picture, but my focus was on the one wrestling with Kuklinski in the center. My next breath caught in my throat and I began to shake.

_Tyler. _It was Tyler!

Kuklinski noticed and cleared his throat. "Childhood friends." He explained in a voice so cold it made me turn to look at him.

"What happened to them?" I asked and his eyes flicked to the Joker who was giving me an irritated _start-moving_ face.

"I'm sure they're around somewhere." He said, titling his head. "Well, _most_ of them anyway."

He knew exactly who I'd been looking at. He _knew_ that I recognized Tyler. I didn't have a chance to comment, because the Joker finally got tired of waiting and curled a finger around my choke collar, "urging" me to follow.

_Holy shit_, I thought feeling numb, _Kuklinski knew Tyler_.


	11. Grin and Bare it

**Gosh this took forever to post. Sorry about that. But, to make up for it, I've decided to cave to the public cry for a lemon. (lol)**

**The next chapter will be up with out a doubt by tomorrow with your Joker/Harley smex. For now enjoy!**

**Also, may I ask that you review. I miss my insight to what you guy wanted from this story. Plus i really looked to your reviews for inspiration. It helps me to find That Place when I know that real, live people with opinions of their own are reading my story.**

**Side note: To those who will be wondering, I'm referring to Baby Firefly of The Devil's Rejects. **

The Joker hadn't seen the picture, and if he had, he just didn't care. I, however, was reeling. Kuklinski knew Tyler. Not only that, but they'd been childhood friends! We were at the van before I'd stopped feeling kinda guilty, (like I always did when I thought of Tyler…which sadly wasn't that often) but then a thought bubbled up into my brain as I was sitting down next to Alec in the back seats.

This explained why Kuklinski seemed to dislike me. I mean, not to sound self-absorbed, but _everyone_ seemed to like me. Hell, even **Batman **liked me! Maybe Kuklinski knew that his buddy had as well, and saw what it had gotten him. Dumped off the side of the highway like so much rubbish after a slow bout of torture. _Yeaahh_..._I_ wouldn't like _me_ either.

I jerked to attention when I got cuffed on the back of the head and looked up to find the Joker frowning at me from the side. Thoughts of Tyler and Kuklinski suddenly seemed trivial. What was wrong with me?

"Sir?" I asked, hoping he hadn't said anything while I was spacing. His dark eyes narrowed a moment, then he shoved a large bag into my hands.

"Change." He directed and sat back against the opposite bench, facing me. I might have gotten a little distracted by the hungry look he was giving me, but my eyes scanned over the others in the van.

"Ah, Mr. J…Don't you think-"

"_Change_."

His voice shot tendrils of cold fear down my spine and I swallowed, nodding. I felt like a dog with its tail between its legs. The image was disturbing; and the fact that I still wore a choke collar didn't really help. I took a breath and dug into the bag for the first item of clothing and glanced around again as I peeled off my shirt.

I'm not sure why I'd been nervous. I probably should have known every guy in the van would turn away with a quick glance at the Joker. _He _was still gazing impassively at me as I clumsily pulled on a tight, white and red racing shirt and ratty, frayed jeans. As I was lacing my boots back up, I tried to find a loose scrap of clothing, a pocket even, but the denim was wrapped around my legs in a way that showed my every curve. They were still breathable thanks only to the stringy holes that seemed to decorate the whole legs.

Holy shit! If these had been lighter, they could be a dead ringer for _Baby's_ jeans. That made me flare with confidence and pride. Now _there_ was a gal who was worth a damn. I shook myself from my swiftly derailing train of thought, and got back to the problem at hand.

"Uh…Puddin', where do I put my blades?"

The guys were turning back in their seat now that I was clothed and Alec gave me a strange look, followed by a quick once-over. Arching both brows he made a face that said _"Meh… Not Bad."_Then turned back to the front and scanned the street as a skinny teenaged boy drove and tried not to look terrified. This one was not from Arkham, that's for sure.

The Joker looked at me boredly a moment, then tilted his head to the side, looking at me from the corner of his eye like a dog. "Were you planning on_ needing_ them?"

My jaw dropped open in my instinct to fix my mistakes. Whatever we were doing must be a delicate matter. (Though that didn't explain the clothes) I'd been bobbing my mouth like a beached fish for a good couple seconds when he turned forward and fought a tiny grin.

Um…was he…_**teasing**__ me_? I'd seen the smirk before he could hide it back under ferocity, and it was definitely not threatening. I was still puzzling that when he reached out a non-gloved hand and took hold of my wrist; jerking me toward him.

His free hand went into his vest pocket and pulled out a razorblade. He turned my pale wrist upward and held it steady, despite the constant jumbling of the car. This didn't bode well. Or even make sense! What had I done? The Joker brought the razor to my wrist then held it against my skin upright with his thumb while the blade snicked sideways and down. It only made me wince, my eyes snapping up to his. He looked almost bored, which told me he wasn't intentionally trying to slash me, he was just fidgeting.

With a crinkle of paper, he removed a colorful wristband and stretched it over my hand to rest over the razor.

"Ta-da!" he wiggled his fingers around my hidden blade.

"It's gone." I grinned, then sat back against my seat just as _High School_ up front slammed the brakes with a curse.

"Er…sorry 'bout that." He shrugged. "We're…um…here."

**oOo**

_Here _was apparently a sleazing strip joint that catered to mobfuls. Mr. J didn't wait for the flustered man who was to be our guide. Instead he just walked right through the crowd… litteraly, they were parting for him. Alec flanked us as we walked across the bar area, and Mr. J tossed his arm around my shoulders. I threaded our fingers casually and walked beside him like it were the most normal thing in the world. Sometimes it was just worth it to see the people's faces when they saw that the Joker really had a girlfriend. Who was attractive. And young.

And _alive._

Grinning along with my man, we came to a guarded black door. The bouncer in front of it looked down at the joker from behind black shades (god only knows why he needed them inside this dim cesspool. I mean that in the kindest of ways of course. I could see myself chilling here for an hour.

Mr. J looked up at the guy and tilted his head smiling to himself. "We've got…uh…an appointment," he said. When the guy only stared at him dumbly, Mr. J waved him out of the way and shoved passed him the door into an office.

"What the fuck is going on here?" a stout, little man cried from behind his desk. He was probably in his 50s with blotchy skin and, like, 4 chins. His beady little eyes zipped from his guard, to the Joker, to me, then back on the clown. Though I caught a few side glances my way. After Kuklinski's visceral hatred for me, it was nice to know that I really wasn't a hatchet-face.

"How did you…Why didn't…" but the porker's answers just kept fading as Alec closed the door and shut out the incessant pound of house techno. I moved away from the Joker, already knowing my part. Skimpy clothes, no weapons.

I was the _Arm-Candy_, and an unsuspecting one at that. While Hefty's mouth bobbed I circled his desk and sat down to his right, crossing my legs and preening. He glanced over nervously, scanning me for weapons and panicking when he couldn't spot them. The Joker stepped forward and held out his arms like he wanted to hug the guy.

"Harold, old _buddy, _long time no see." He plopped both hands on the desk, scattering papers and leaned toward the big guy. "_I hear you have some information for me_."

His voice dropped a few octaves then, and Harold's pudgy face went stark white. His beady eyes flicked pleadingly from one man in the room to another as if _any_ would step between him and the psychotic clown.

"Well, I…no. I don't. Kuklinski-" As the Joker stared at him as if he were an idiot, Harold trailed off, and cleared his throat. He glanced at me again and swallowed, but I stopped the hope in his eyes by picking up his letter opener and stroking the sharp tip with the end of my finger. He looked back at the Joker shook his head.

"Mr…Joker, I've only been given this…thing for you." He reached toward me before remembering I was there then jerked back. I was blocking the desk drawer. "Um…" he glanced nervously between the clown and me so I grinned.

"Could'a said please." I turned and sat across his lap, crossing my legs again. "Better?"

"Ah…I'm…um…"

The Joker began tapping his fingers on the table, though the sound was muted by his gloves. Harold snapped back to attention and reached over me to get to the drawer. He pulled out an envelope and handed it out, trembling violently, to the Joker.

Ok. I know my Puddin's intimidating and all, but geez! _Show a little spine!_

"Ku-Kuklinskisaid ta give 'em to _you_." Harold shuddered pathetically. Mr. J snatched the envelope and ripped it open letting the contents spill onto the desk. With a coo, I grabbed one of the pictures off the top,(A shot of Gotham's newest bank) while the Joker took a printed letter, signed by the Italian.

"He said the deal would happen here…well, in the back. All the law here is already paid for. You two shouldn't be bothered."

Damn, did that wop organize quick! I met the Joker's eyes a moment then jumped off of the big guy, giving him a little wave. Mr. J pulled me up beside him and handed me the letter without looking at it. I scanned it after a brief moment of surprise that I hoped Harold hadn't noticed. I doubted it by the way the sweat was pouring down the sides of his pudgy face was he gazed at his bodyguard encouragingly. I brought it to the Joker's attention by pointedly looking between the two. His black eyes snapped over to the bodyguard then back to Harold and he laughed a bit.

"Well, Harold, you wouldn't mind if we waited _here_, would you?"

I think Harold wished he could sink into his chair at the moment, but he was just too fat. The poor guy gave and jerky nod, then attempted to smile.

**oOo**

By 3 O'clock that morning we had Harold in tears. Mr. J never physically hurt him. Well…not _badly._ I was laying on my stomach with my chin propped in my hand. My feet kicked idly above me and I fiddled with Harold's hair while the Joker leaned on the back of the chair behind him. They'd had a wonderful chat over the course of the evening about _allies_.

Which ones where the smart choice to have. How Harold had worked for Kuklinskifor three years, and had never grow his business beyond what the rick Italian allowed it to be. We all came to the conclusion that our porky friend wanted to work for the Joker now, instead of the alternative.

Which, to his defense, involved a wooden barrel, starving rats and the Gotham bay.

Tough choice, that.

We were just toasting Harold's newest career move when Alec knocked on the door and came inside.

"It's about time, boss."

As we moved to the door, I noticed Alec was looking a little disheveled. His collar was pulled open on one side and his buttons weren't lined up. I matched pace with him and elbowed him in the side.

"Does the Joker know you were fraternizing instead of at your post?"

The Brit chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "That obvious huh?"

I smirked and arched a brow. "At least tell me she was a consenting adult."

He made a regretful expression and shrugged. "I can verify the consent, but _one_ of them _was_ a bit hesitant."

I feigned indignation and slapped his arm while he grinned. I have no doubt he was telling the truth.

When we got outside, the Italians were already there. They gathered in one entrance of the huge back-alley, gun holstered until we were in sight. Our own boys responded with a waterfall like sound of a few dozen automatic weapons cocking behind us.

Kuklinski came out of the center with a dark expression. There were terse greetings and he motioned to his men with a jerk of his head. 7 large, black, gym bags were carried out to us the stacked between our segregated "teams".

Something felt wrong here. Kuklinski was pacing like some sort of caged beast, his eyes on the Joker and narrowed. Mr. J had noticed before me and was already watching the man with a calculating expression that made me a little nervous.

"So, Dick, while we're _here_, we migh**t** as well be _civil_. Don'**t** you agree?"

Kuklinski's fingers curled into a fist at his side and the knuckles quickly turned white. What was his problem tonight…besides the obvious? The Joker titled his head a little and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

"How's the wife?" he pushed. It seemed to be exactly enough to tip the guy over his personal cliff. With a growl, he clenched his jaw and turned to the Joker. Above us the sky had grown dark and there was a crack of thunder. Fine drizzle quickly became pouring rain in a matter of minutes and the tension in the alley was suddenly wire tight.

"Enough!" Kuklinski boomed. "This is it. No more little favors. I won't get involved with a man like you."

He sounded like some righteous business man. Had he _forgotten_ he was a slime-ball mob boss?

"Now _Dick_…"Mr. J took a slow breath and shook his head regretfully, "I don'**t** _think_ that would be in Teresa's _beest _interest."

Kuklinski made a horrible sound, much like a sob, but harsher. He sounded like some wounded animal and I took a instinctual step back while the Joker only frowned. When Kuklinski raised his head, his eyes were red from fighting and loosing against his devastated tears.

"We can cut the shit now." He smiled tightly, his disgust plain to see. "I already know I'm not getting my Teresa back." His voice wavered slightly on the last part and he gazed into the ground blankly.

"Oh?" was all the Joker said for a moment before glancing around. "And…uh…why's _that_?"

The sorrow suddenly became seething hatred as Kuklinski met his eyes. "Because the _police_ just found my daughter..._stashed _in a **manhole,** in the park. They said…"he made a miserable noise, "she'd been there for a few days at the least."

I looked over at the Joker in wonder. _That_ would defiantly explain the lack of small child noises at the compound.

The next events really took me by surprise. Things seemed to happen in slow motion, but in the long run I can only blame myself.

"Well, it looked like he made the right decision seeing as you turned on us anyway." It was childish and stupid and really, I might deserve what I got. Even Mr. J's brows rose a bit under his smearing greasepaint. Kuklinski eyed me a moment, seemed almost lost for word that I could be so cold. Then he nodded. Before anyone knew what was happening, he calmly pulled out his gun, aimed at me, and fired.


	12. A Little Rough Part 1

**Ok, so I wrotw chapter 12 last night fully intent on posting it last night. Which I did, it was just cut weird and wasn't working. Also, what was supposed to be a chapter turned into 5,000-plus words, so I've decided to just cut it. this is the smallest section of the thing, but it was the only place I could cut it without ruining the flow. **

**The 2nd part WILL be up by, at the latest, 4 O'clock this morning.**

**So enjoy and know that I'm considering a lot of the suggestions that were sent. Those of you who asked for more of a certain character, don't worry, all in it's time.**

**Anyway, read, enjoy, review (please?!)**

**(Though I don't mind you waiting to review after the last half of this chapter is posted :D )**

The first shot hit me dead on. Right in the thigh where he'd wanted it. (I hoped)

With a furious cry of pain, I slammed down into a dumpster, rolling away bloodied into the brick wall beside it. God that hurt like a mother! Another barrage of bullets and the guy beside me went down. I pulled the gun from his hand and fired twice back into the slimly little Italian bastards who'd fucked this deal. Someone grabbed my arm, yanking me back to my feet and into a hobbling run.

Alec was an over-achiever; bless his shriveled, black, little heart. My British bodyguard. He seemed to think I was his way into the big leagues and wasn't going to stop being my protector until Mr. J noticed and thanked him with power.

We weren't just a frightening sect in Gotham's underbelly anymore. The Joker had power like the crime families did, maybe more so. He had money (even if he didn't want it) and an apartment in Uppercrest (If we ever got to use it again) that made me thank the gods for my taste in…Man

Still just one for me.

Sometimes I thought about what my life had been like before a few stints in Arkham Asylum and too many bodies to count in my proverbial closet. It was fuzzy, but I do recall my mother's voice…one of the few times she was ever sober.

"_As long as you're going to whore yourself around, why not make it count. Find yourself some rich guy, Harleen, cuz that's the only way you're stayin' off the streets."_

Well…guess I took that advice after all.

"Oy, you with us, Red?"

I snapped back when the bullets started flying again. Our boys were arming up and checking magazines, including the Joker. Alec tossed me a thigh holster and a second gun. I shook away my haze and quickly strapped on the holster and slipped in the gun. I reloaded the first one with clenched teeth and stood. The mind sure does wander when it doesn't want to acknowledge things.

Like, for instance, the hole in my thigh that was gushing blood like some kind of horror movie prop. My jeans were tattered enough that the entire area was already exposed. I watched the frayed edges tinge with red as the denim soaked up my blood. For a moment I sagged.

The Joker glanced back just in time to smack me upside the head and scowl. "Focus, Harley." He said then turned around with a grin and started firing. The boys moved out as well, but weren't as quick to throw themselves into the line of fire.

Somehow, some of the fighting had become completely physical. Men were dropping there guns were they'd run out of bullets and going after each other. I think I'd stick to my** boom**-stick, thank you. Spinning around the corner, I opened fire at Kuklinski's men and tried to work my way toward the clown.

For a long moment, I could only understand tiny bits of what was going on around me.

A gun shot. A scream. Someone cursed and I heard the wet smack of skin to skin contact. Several more gunshots and a scream ripped from my throat as pain tore through my right leg, adding to the agony in my thigh. I recognized continuous weapons discharging and white flashes in the dark street we'd spilled onto.

I heard the Joker cackle, and tossing my first empty gun to the pavement, I moved toward the sound. Farther into the alley, I managed to look up just in time for one thug to grab hold of Mr. J's arm and sling him around the side of the dumpster. I gasped when he let out a furious growl before smashing the guys head into the bricks. When he slumped, the Joker continued to kick him, seething, his left hand firmly over his right shoulder. When he finally stopped to breathe, I noticed that the arm dangled uselessly at his side, fingers limp.

That little fuck had just dislocated the Joker's arm!

"Puddin'!" I cried, struggling to hobble down the wall toward him. His eyes snapped to me, and for a moment, his expression made me consider running. Instead, I hopped passed the dumpster which acted like a shield and slumped against the wall. He wasted no time pulling my gun from my thigh and squeezing two rounds into the thug's head, then stepped back into the open to fire a few rounds off into the Italians. Two fell and another clutched his throat, soon to join them. Mr. J glanced back and tossed me the gun. I was slipping it back in place when Alec and a few other men came stomping down the alley. The Brit surveyed the clown, assessed that he could still move, glanced at me, then threw me onto his back with his automatic in my hand. As he dashed away, I fired wildly behind us with the other boys.

We might have gotten a little farther if the huge black mass hadn't swooped in from the rooftop and down two thugs at once.

"_Bloody hell_." Alec breathed, eyes going wide as he looked back over his shoulder. I searched for Mr. J until I found him far ahead of us but completely still. His expression was odd, and hard to read. Part rage, part shock, part…something else. A twisted excitement maybe, whatever it was, I had never had the benefit of feeling it. I believe those kinds of emotions are reserved only for the minds that can handle experiencing such extremes.

The look frightened me because I knew that if he went after the thing in that alley, he wouldn't make it out of here.

"How the fuck did the_** Bat**_ get here?" the skinny teenaged boy from earlier cried, looking very pale and terrified. "How did he even know?" Stupid questions for those of us who knew the Dork Knight.

Batman _always_ knew. And if he didn't yet, he'd find out. That's just the way things were.

"Alec," I squeezed his sides with my knees as if he were a horse, "Don't let him go after the Bat."

He turned quickly and must have come to the same conclusion once seeing that…horrible smile, and started huffing toward him. I could hear the screams of men behind us, growing closer even though we were running away. That frightened me even more. Kuklinski must have gotten out of here before the hero because I didn't see him or his car. Sleazy bastard! This was **his** fault!

"Shit!" Alec's curse startled me, because he only used American slang when he was really upset. I looked up and wanted to curse as well. The Joker was gone. He'd slipped through the crowd and I could just bet who he was going after.

Damn that man! How did he plan to defend himself?! I love the man, but we have to be realistic here, he couldn't even best Batman with _both_ arms, let alone _one. _When I got my hands on him…

His laugh echoed across the bricks and I found him already faced off with the Bat. His smile was huge and excited and he held himself as if he weren't even scratched. Only I, who spent most of my time observing him, noticed the slight hesitation in his movements from pain even _he_ couldn't ignore.

"Alec!" I cried and the behemoth tipped forward at a dead run, forcing his way passed brawling men while I slammed them with the butt of Alec's automatic. I was desperate. Frantically beating my way toward my man while I watched Batman throw away the last thug and face him as well.

They were talking, it was the only explanation for their lack of violence thus far. Please god, don't let him get hurt! I prayed, and I hadn't even known I believed the guy upstairs. Anything that could help, I suppose.

"Harley-" Alec snapped and I gripped his shoulders as the hero finally lunged and the two of them clashed. My throat seemed to swell as if I were close to tears and I slapped Alec's shoulder. We needed to do something! Now!

Batman landed a few hit on the Joker, who only took them with wild laughter as if encouraging more. He _liked_ this, and they both knew it. Now the only problem was Mr. J's desire to prove that maybe Batman liked it too. The Joker managed a hit that grazed the hero's chin then sent him hurtling into the bike rank just outside the club door. The Bat went down and Alec took his opportunity.

Releasing me completely, he bolted toward the Joker, who was cackling through pants and I tried not to hurt myself standing back up. Batman wouldn't stay down, so I turned to the chaotic scramble of mixed thugs and pinned two of our guy closest to me. Aware that Alec had just started exchanging blows with the hero down the alley, I raise the automatic and made cheese of the distracting enemies my boys were against.

"Get over there!" I bellowed pointing toward the Joker, now back in the fight. A few more boys followed and I clenched my jaw as I leaned back against the wall, realizing suddenly how dizzy I was. With a glance at my leg I saw that the denim was dripping onto the concrete around me. What's worse, there was a trail. I put it out of mind and turned back to the fight, gulping down air. The alley blurred a moment but I shook away the nausea, refusing to give in. I couldn't just sit here while my Puddin' was in trouble!

Gathering everything I had, I forced myself to stand and move toward the violence again. Fortunately for me, I didn't have to go far. Alec and company were moving quickly my way and I heard the distant wail of sirens. Looks like Harold had lost his cool.

"That's our cue, Red." He smiled though I couldn't imagine how any of this was funny. I was gathered and tossed over his back before I knew what was happening and I looked beside us to find the Joker, looking pouty, but following the Brit as he carved a path down the alley. I don't know what happened to the Bat, or how they got away from him, but I was thankful. Three blocks down we hopped into a van and jetted for wherever the Joker barked at the new kid. I had to hand it to the boy, he was still _alive_. And in one piece, unlike some of us.


	13. A Little Rough Part 2

**So here's part two, as promised. ***_**cough**_***And your smut***_**cough**_*****_**cough**_*****

**Ok, I'm gunna have to ask…no Implore that you review this one. I'm dying to know what you guys think. Honesty is Key, Kittens.**

**Anyway, I had a blast writing this one, and I hope you guys enjoy it (and let me know what you have to say about it in the end.)**

**^.~**

We weren't really picky in our selection of hideouts. Alec and the boys had headed off to find out what they could about everything that had gone wrong, leaving me with another gun just in case. We'd made it to the second floor of the dingy apartment building when Mr. J pulled it from my thigh holster with his left hand, shooting the lock twice and kicking in the door. His right arm dangled at his side, dislocated or broken, I couldn't tell now. The pain from my thigh was enough to make my stomach roll, but thankfully I hadn't eaten yet today, so there was nothing to come up.

"What in the_ Hell _do you think you're doin', boy?!" An old man came from the back of the apartment holding a bat. His arthritis made the wood quiver, but he looked intent on protecting his home. The Joker wasn't in the mood to play. Without a pause, he lifted the gun and popped off a shot into the old-timer's forehead. His eyes rolled back too quickly and turned red, then he collapsed.

His fat, little housewife came waddling into the living room and screamed. It cut off halfway through when I pulled my extra piece. Three in the chest with a 9mm and Humpty Dumpty crashed into the floor beside her man. Mr. J had already closed the front door and was pulling off his coat, hissing curses as he maneuvered his injured arm.

Biting back my own pain, I hobbled to him and whipped off his jacket. Black eyes snapped up and narrowed, but I ignored the threat. His arm was out of place, and he needed me. He'd have to deal. I knew I'd loose my nerve if I looked into his eyes, so I kept them on his arm and grabbed his bicep.

His free hand, still holding his gun, rested on my shoulder, the muzzle pressed into my throat, but I knew he wasn't telling me to stop. He was bracing himself for the pain.(still I hoped that it was on safety) Sucking in a breath, I gripped his shoulder with my other hand and shifted the bone back toward the socket. Mr. J grit his teeth, but didn't cry out like I'd expected. He let me roll the joint a few times, then made the softest grunt of pain when it finally cracked back into place.

I let him breathe a moment before leaning against the back of the couch because I could no longer handle weight on my leg. My thigh was on fire!

Mr. J looked down at the blood seeping down my leg then up to my face. I stiffened when he pulled his switchblade, worried that he was in fact pissed that I'd just hurt him. I calmed just a little when he went down on one knee and grabbed the back of my injured leg. There was no warning before his blade dug into the wound, and I cried out, biting back the sound and grabbing a fistful of his shirt at the shoulder because it was the closest thing I could get to. Tears streamed down my face as he dug out the bullets one by one, but he didn't criticize me this time. He didn't scold my weakness, and I was thankful.

When the Joker stood again, I hadn't released his shirt. He rotated his arm a few times while I drew heavy breaths through clenched teeth.

"Get something to stop the blood." He ordered suddenly, nodding toward the dead couple. I managed to hobble over before falling to my knees in front of the cow-woman. I pulled the razor from my wristband and I cut a few thick strips from her moo-moo. He fluttered his fingers at the couch so I made my slow way back over to it and flopped down.

"Loose the pants." He said while surveying the room. I opened my mouth to question, but his head snapped back toward me and I sucked it in, wiggling out of my blood-soaked jeans with only a few whimpers of pain. The Joker disappeared into the other room and I heard clanking in what I assumed was the kitchen. When he came back, sleeves rolled up to his elbows(he'd removed his gloves a while ago), I was still wiggling. I suppose he got impatient, because halfway down my thighs, he slapped away my clumsy hands and yanked the denim completely off letting it land with a wet slap a few feet away. It hurt…_damn did it hurt_…but he didn't really care.

"I'm dizzy, Puddin'" I admonished after he knelt in front of me again. The world was starting to spin for the second time tonight.

"_Tha-at's_ because you're _bleeding _to death." He answered slowly.

"How do I stop it?!" I asked in a high, frightened voice.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed my wrist, hauling me back to my feet and against him. Mr. J supported my weight as we moved over the dead couple and into the kitchen. The room was barely large enough for it contents. I was hefted onto the small, wooden table in the corner while the Joker moved to the stove. My mouth slowly curved into a frown as I took in his little "solution".

The burner on the stove was up all the way, and the metal guarding had been removed. One of the Joker's blades was resting over the flame, getting _hot_, by the color it was turning. The clown cracked his neck and rolled his shoulder again, frowning at the sensation, then turned back to me.

"Can't you just tie it off?" I asked, knowing perfectly well he couldn't. The Joker raised both brows and leaned against the table, crossing his feet at the ankles.

"Well if you _want_ to die of **ex**-_san-_guination then…sure. By all means." He gestured at the strips of cloth on the table beside me. Shit, I was getting more light-headed by the second. And the bullet holes were still seeping blood. It already pooled on the table and was dripping onto the linoleum.

I think I would have panicked then if he didn't see it coming and take hold of my throat just tight enough to quiet me.

"_Not. One. Word_." He growled then released me to twist one of my strips of cloth and hold it up to my mouth like a bit. I glanced between him and the cloth a few times before he lowered his head in exasperation, looking up at me from under his lashes. Though the expression came out fierce and dangerous. I noticed that his eyes were very dark at the moment.

"You're worrying about the neighbors _after_ shooting the couple?" I asked, stalling.

The Joker stepped forward, getting very close to me and forced the rolled material between my teeth, tying it behind my head like a gag.

"If I wanted any lip," he said calmly, adjusting the cloth then looking me right in the eyes, "I'd rip it off your face."

Well… _Someone_ was in a mood.

The Joker turned back to the stove and grabbed the knife, ignoring the small sound of fear I made as he came back. He didn't look at my face to see my expression. Didn't check to know if I was in pain as he did his _playmates_. He simply pinned my thigh, paused to give me time to brace myself, then fixed the searing steel to my wound.

I'm sure I screamed before the pain and blood loss combined made me black out. I couldn't have been out long, but when I came to, the knife was on the counter and the Joker was picking me up as if I weighed nothing. He carried me back into the living room like a bride and I wrapped my arms around his neck and nestled into him, eyes closing. The gag was also thankfully gone.

I didn't have the energy to be indignant when he dropped me onto the couch. Simply sat up as best as I could as he went back on a knee and opened a bottle of whiskey with a proof that made me nervous. The Joker took a swig and shook his head like a dog, making a strange sound that made me smile lazily.

"The burn means it's working." He smirked cocking his head and splashing my cauterized flesh with the alcohol. I only winced one time then leaned back against the couch while he wrapped my thigh with the strips of cloth. Mr. J turned around and sat between my legs on the floor, taking another long drink from the bottle. He shook his head again, then surprisingly, handed it back to me.

I didn't really think about it before tossing the bottle back like I used to when I'd break into my mother's stash. Drinking back then had been a semi-regular thing and had become as natural as fighting with my father when he was around. Now, I sputtered, but managed to down it, catching my reflection in the mirror that hung across the wall like a redneck mantle. The Joker was looking at me with a mild amusement. He reached backward and took the bottle, dropping my eyes in the mirror and gazing absently over at the dead couple.

As we sat there, breathing heavily away the last bits of our adrenalin, I was overcome with a deep love for my man. It was a special relationship when you set each other's wounds. How many people could say their man loved them enough to dig out bullets in their flesh?

It still hurt to move, but I forced myself to slide off the couch and over his lap, straddling him. At first he only stared at me, letting me kiss him, but giving nothing back. Then, he grabbed my upper arms and shoved me sideways and off of him. I landed on my back and stared up at the ceiling. It might have been the blood loss, but I suddenly couldn't keep myself from giggling. The giggles slowly became full out laughter, as the room began to swim.

"Harley." The Joker growled, his head rolling against the couch cushion to glare at me. "_Shu-__**t**__. U-__**ph**_."

But I couldn't. The laughter just kept bubbling out of my chest until I had fresh tears rolling down my checks and onto the carpet. He glared at me a long time before he was suddenly above me. Those black eyes were promising pain, but my laughter died as I looked up at him. I lifted my good leg and let my calf glide up his side until it wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer. The Joker looked down between us, his expression giving nothing away.

I didn't plead with my eyes this time. Didn't whimper or beg. I simply gazed back at him, just as impassively. I'd have to make note to do it again in the future because without breaking eye-contact, he shifted down to press against me. This time, my smile was impossible to hide. I snaked my arm around his neck, the other hand working the buttons on his shirt. I'd managed the first couple when my grip across his shoulder got too tight and he winced. (Though it was an impossibly small, flash of movement for the pain it must have been)

The Joker's black eyes smoldered. When he moved his arm, I instinctively stiffened, thinking he would hit me, but instead he grabbed my other leg and jerked it up to mirror the other around his waist. The sudden movement sent fresh waves of ache through my thigh, but it didn't turn me off. In fact, I found myself sucking in an excited breath.

With new enthusiasm, I fumbled with his buttons and he allowed it. Even sat up to discard his shirt and vest. Breathing heavier I took the opportunity to hurriedly unfasten his pants before he sank back down over me. My skin tight racing shirt was doing nothing to hide my body's reaction to Mr. J. After ripping it off impatiently, his mouth came down over one of my breast. I moaned, arching up against him as his tongue swirled around my nipple.

Was it wrong that I was enjoying this while the carpet, wet with the couple's blood, lay beneath us? He stripped off the last bit of my clothing while I eased down his pants and reached between us. By now, Mr. J was just as _enthusiastic_ about this as I was, so when I wrapped my fingers around him and squeezed, I wasn't surprise to see his eyelids lower slightly.

We weren't kissing, though I wouldn't have minded. Kissing was too personal, and this wasn't shaping up to be gentle. Not that it ever was. The Joker took both my arms and held them against the floor above me, ignoring the wet squish the action made. With a sudden, harsh movement, he was inside me and I clenched my jaw to keep back my little noises.

Any movement of my leg reminded me I'd been shot twice, so this wasn't exactly easing. As we moved the pain seemed only to build, doubling before it had the chance to settle. Normally, this would have had me crying, or worse, but tonight I was clutching him closer, my nails dragging a wicked path down his chest and back. It drew blood, but only made him utter a little sound that told me it hadn't bothered him at all. His nimble fingers slid down my side to clamp over my new scars, pressing into the seared holes._ That_ made me cry out, but it ended in an encouraging groan that I didn't want to consider.

I wasn't myself, and yet this was wonderful. We rolled a few times, our skin becoming sleek from the blood that soaked the carpet. He released my arm to fist my hair and forced my head to the side to give me a small nip on my shoulder, while I clawed another row of lines down his back.

The chill of the elderly couple's apartment, combined with the fact that we were soaking wet from the rain made my skin prickle with goose bumps. I took a quick breath, making a small, frustrated sound when the Joker pulled out of me. What was going on? No one had found _any _kind of satisfaction yet! He couldn't just stop.

I opened my mouth to voice this opinion, but Mr. J was already grabbing my upper arm with a dark expression. He flipped me onto my stomach and pressed down over me. I gulped in a few nervous breaths while he nuzzled into my neck.

"Don't worry, Harley-girl." He spoke almost mockingly into my hair. "I'll take **c**are of ya."

I gave a soft yelp when he snaked an arm around my waist and yanked me closer so that I could feel his cock on the back of my thigh. My body tensed in anticipation and even fear, but thankfully he wasn't in the mood for _that_ kind of fun.

"Nnh!" The sound slipped out as he pushed back between my thighs from behind. Sweet Mary Mother of Fuck, this was the best calamity EVER! If bad deals and bandaging wounds led to this, we just might have to work with Kuklinski a few more times. And holy crap! Could I be making any more noise?! I hoped all the neighbors were deaf, because the two of us sounded like an amateur porno.

Well…maybe not _amateur_.

My thought process fizzled out around there and animal drive took over. I pushed up, gasping when it forced a thrust much faster then intended, and pulled away from him. I recalled our first little contest from what seemed years ago and gave a wicked smile to meet his frown.

It was my turn to take the reigns. The Joker's eyes narrowed slightly and he cocked his head in that eerie dog-like way that made me pause. I'd taken away his control and he didn't seem to like it. But when he slowly stood to come after me, I jumped to my feet and stepped into his arms, turning his back to the short coffee table in front of the couch. With a gentle push at his shoulders let met only a moment of resistance, he was sitting on the center of the wide square table.

The rain had washed away most of his greasepaint, so only pieces of his "normal face" remained. The black was smeared around his eyes, blending into flesh-toned skin instead of white. Tiny smears of red still clung to his scars, and his green-gold hair hung in wet curls that darkened his face. My man looked sexy, so I wasted no more time getting down onto the table too, and straddling him.

He arched a brow and grinned like the devil. "Whoa-**Nelly**! Wha**t** have we _here_?"

With a smirk, I wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck and skimmed the other one down his chest. An eager shiver shot down my spine and into my groin when my fingernails brushed a rippled pattern over his abs. Those taught little buggers had surprised me the first time I'd ever seen Mr. J shirtless. I'd expected maybe the onset of flab and had gotten flat, toned, fry-an-egg…_him._

No one was luckier than me.

The Joker's eyes followed the progress of my fingers until they tightened around his cock. I rose slightly and paused. His gaze snapped back up to mine and slapped a hand down onto my thigh. His smile was every bit as predatory as it was sensual.

"**Ride** 'em, _cowgirl_."

I flushed at the soft words and lowered myself over him.

I'd planned to tease myself(and perhaps him) a bit by taking only a bit of him and pulling back, but the Joker, holding my hips tightly, pulled me down into his lap. I gasped as the motion forced him in to the hilt, pushing my nails up the back of his neck and into his hair. When he lifted me up to drop back over his cock again, they curled into a fist in his hair, but instantly released when he hissed at the slight pain. For a moment, I couldn't move, only stared right into his black eyes. But then again, I didn't_ have_ to move, he simply lifted me up then slammed me back down.

"Uh!" the half-moan escaped before I could stop it, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, as he began to quicken his pace, it seemed his goal to make me cry out. I'd already given up any illusions that I'd run this rodeo and just let the man do his thing. It would have hurt if it didn't feel so damn _good_.

The combination of his grunts and my feminine bursts of nonsensical sounds seemed to mingle with the growing heat between my legs, adding to the moment's intensity. Waves of sensation were building in the pit of my stomach while he bounced me in his lap.

"Nnh! Nnh! God! Puddin'. I-" But I couldn't form words after that.

The Joker took hold of my upper arm and rolled us down onto the table with my legs up around his waist. He gripped the edge of the table above my head with both hands, then, almost violently, drove into me. I cried out, harsh and loud, but he cut off the sound with another merciless thrust that filled me to his hilt. Mr. J was just big enough that this was almost uncomfortable, but as he drove into me like an animal I still couldn't help the moans.

My arm wrapped around him for stability against the onslaught, fingers curling to grip at his shoulder blades with my nails. His biceps bulged on either side of my head before I tucked it against his chest and neck in an attempt to muffle my horse cries of pleasure. A layer under my skin swelled with heat until I couldn't take it anymore and something seemed to split open. With it erupted great silver waves of sensation that filled me to my fingertips. My head rolled back and I let out a scream of release. The Joker kept pace, riding out the waves with me until he tensed for his own climax.

Panting and spent, he rolled onto his back beside me while I tried to steady my heavy breathing. The hollow echoes of my orgasm still had me trembling and I jumped when his hand come down over my thigh. We both lay there a long time before he finally rolled onto his side and flashed a crooked grin.

"Ok." He rolled his eyes, "NOW it's your turn." There was silence until I managed to start breathing again and sit up.

_Holy Staggering Stamina_,** Batman**! This was going to be the best night **EVER**!!

**oOo**

Over the course of the evening our fun was taken to startling, and in some cases _degrading,_ levels. I felt as if we were animals, marking the place to claim it as our own. We certainly sounded like wild beasts, grunting and growling. We broke most of what was in our path, unless it was large enough to use as leverage of any kind. Neither one of us was able to form any real words, but were happy enough with the gasps and groans we coaxed from one another.

As the sky was beginning to brighten, we collapsed against each other, exhausted and slick with blood sweat and the efforts of our debauchery. We'd made it to the actual _bed _at some point, so I pulled at the corner of the sheet, only half on the bed, and laid my head down on his chest. He didn't seem to mind that I was still on top of him, but that might have just been a lack of energy to kick me off. In any case, I think I deserved a little something for initiating last night's marathon.

**Go Me!**

As my eyes closed I listened to Mr. J's heart thumping beneath his warm chest. Much faster then it should have, even after sex, but, then again, he wasn't like normal men.

I was drifting off when out of nowhere, his body tensed. The wife seemed to have a passion for collecting knick-knacks so I looked into the reflections in the glass cases that decorated the room. From about 7 different angles, I saw his hand hovering and inch above my hair. His expression was of surprise, shifting quickly to irritation as he realized he'd almost stroked my hair. This seemed to bother him, so I remained still; pretending to sleep while he lowered his hand and stared at the back of my head. I glanced down at the carpet nervously then jerked in surprise when I looked back up at the glass to find him starring back at me. I tensed, but he only shifted me off of him and got comfortable by himself. It wasn't long before exhaustion took me despite my slightly hurt feelings.

When Alec woke us up a few hours later, I found myself trapped against the mattress. This time, he wasn't fast enough to hide that in his sleep, he'd pulled me against his chest.


	14. A Little Drama

Mr. J was the first to rise, so Alec turned his back and tried to distract himself. Unfortunately for him, I was naked too, so he floundered until I grabbed the wife's flowery robe off the night stand and pulled it on. The Brit relaxed while the Joker turned to get his clothes from the living room. He frowned when he caught sight of my Puddin's back and turned impressed eyes on me.

"You do that?" he motioned toward the ten angry, red crescents decorating his shoulder and mid-back. They were joined by a dozen other scratches in all directions. Blushing slightly, I nodded, and kept my eyes on the carpet until he laughed.

"Blimey, woman." His expression became wicked, "I know what I'll be thinking about nights."

I slapped his arm as the Joker came back in, pulling on his vest with his tie flung around his shoulders. The man dressed fast. Which brought my attention back to Alec.

"Did you find them?" I asked eagerly watching the ire creep into my bodyguard's expression. With a heavy sigh, he held out a small bundle of frayed denim. I'd made him go search for some of my clothes before he came over, since I'd been the one to answer the phone call this morning.

Daisy dukes, cowboy boots that stopped just under my knee, and a white button up with blue pin-stripes I'd found in the back of the wife's closet. Still too big, I only buttoned a few of them and tied off the lower half of the shirt, leaving my torso mostly exposed. I was finding lately that the less I wore, the more comfortable I felt.

I was still deciding what to think of that.

Knowing Alec would turn the moment I flashed skin, I began to change. He sighed and leaned back against the wall, eyes on the floor. The Joker turned to face me suddenly, listening to several messages on his cell phone. Seeing that he'd only gotten half his tie done, I rolled my eyes, zipped my shorts, and went to fix it. He barely glanced at me as I fiddled with the crazy block tie he liked. It didn't really bother me though, after last night, I wasn't worried about Mr. J not being attracted to me or anything.

Alec looked up finally and straitened his jacket. "You look like a bloody cowgirl, Harley."

My cheeks flamed suddenly and I looked away, the Joker tossing his phone on the bed, hooked a finger in my front belt loop and grinned.

"_Yee-__**haw**_." He murmured against my ear, letting me know that** yes**, he remembered too. A rush of heat shot down between my thighs.

_O Lordy._

Completely lost, but unwilling to ask question lest he _find out_, Alec grabbed the cell phone from the bundled sheets (I saw he was careful to touch very little of them) and moved out the door with Mr. J.

"What's going on today, Puddin'?" I asked happily, hopping over the graying housewife. The flies were starting to gather around her mouth and eyes. I watched them scuttle between her lips and back for a moment before I realized the Joker had been speaking.

His eyes got very dark for a moment and he looked between the corpse and me a few times before locking with my eyes. I was very still, fighting to hold his eyes, because I knew this game. If I looked away, I was hiding something.

"I have business to attend, Pooh." He spoke finally and I released the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "You just go out and…_entertain_ yourself."

I gave an eager nod and looped my arms with his long enough to sneak a hung with it and skip out of the apartment. I probably should made sure it wasn't the one that had been dislocated, but I hadn't been shot of stabbed yet, so I assumed I gotten the right one.

The boys were getting rid of me for the day. That was fine, I could live with a day kicking back. Now all I needed was a place that wouldn't get me sent to jail just for showing up.

**oOo**

The Narrows were uncharacteristically quiet this afternoon, but I didn't mind. Less whooping and propositions meant a happier Harley. Today had been largely uneventful, not that I was complaining. It wasn't just odd when my everyday life _didn't_ involve explosives and 9mm's.

A distant rumble made me pause at the corner of the street and palm the tiny blade strapped to my thigh. (I couldn't exactly sport my 12 inch in the streets) The car in question was a Lamborghini, and when it rolled up beside me in all its tinted-window glory, I knew it could be only two people. Neither of which I had any desire to see. The passenger window rolled down and I braced myself against the door with a wicked smile.

"Hey there, Suga-Daddy," I cocked a hip and let Bruce Wayne glare up at me. Were we normal people, we might have been rather hostile to one another; seeing as only last night he'd been trying to hurt my Puddin'. But we were not normal people, so while he wore his Wayne-mask, I pretended that's all he was. "I've got to say, to the casual observer, this might not look like it's completely on the up-an-up."

In normal no-nonsense fashion, he simply starred at me. "Get in the car, Harley." He was using Hero-voice in his mild-mannered mask, so I humored him and opened the door.

"Alrighty, Mr. But we got's ta keep this on the D.L. I got two strikes against me."

The businessman's eyes skipped from my bare stomach, to my legs, then locked on the road ahead. God forbid he feel _attracted _to a half-naked young woman. It almost made me laugh.

"I'm just going to assume you're joking." He sighed, and the car purred to life. I stretched out in the leather seat and watched him drive; waiting for the conversation I knew was coming. It didn't take long.

"What are you doing, Harley?"

"Well, Bruce, I'm sitting in a rich man's car wondering what he could want with a wee, slip of a lass, like myself." (I'd spent far too much time with Alec)

Wayne shot me one of his best angry looks so I clamped me lips together theatrically. He seemed to be in a no-fun mood, which was unfortunate.

"I told you there'd be no more chances, Harley. If you screw up, I take you to Gordan, myself."

"Gasp!" I covered my mouth, and looked generally alarmed.

"Do you think this is a _joke_?" Suddenly the joy was sucked right out of the car and I tensed at his booming voice. "Last night, I let you run. I could have found whatever hole he pulled you into and thrown you both back in Arkham. I didn't because you were both hurt. I figured you couldn't cause much damage."

_Wasn't __**he**__ going to shit a brick when he saw our generous hosts on the news_.

"It won't happen again. I won't defend you anymore, Harley. Not if you've really picked **his** side." This was said with such malice, such _seething_ hatred, that it truely frightened me.

During his little scolding, I glanced out the window and noticed that we had left the Narrows and were heading for mid-town. Which just so happened to be right on the way to Gotham P.D. Hand once again on my tiny knife, I turned back to Wayne and frowned.

"So what are you telling me to do, exactly? Tell the Joker I can't rob or pillage anymore because it's _naughty_?" I scoffed. "Do you _want_ me to die?"

"Obviously not-"

"Oh, **obviously**," I snapped back. He was slowing. The police station was _right there_, and he was **slowing**!

"You planning on being a hero, Mr. Wayne?"

The car pulled to a stop across the busy street and he glanced over at me, expression unreadable. "I considered it." He admitted.

My heart was racing now, and I was wondering if one could tuck and roll from a stationary car. It couldn't be quite as painful, at least.

"And now?" I asked, easing away from him to open the door unseen. It was locked of course, but damnit, I tried. Bruce sighed and ran fingers through his hair, looking at me with something like irritation. Like a father scolding his unruly, teenaged hellion.

"I don't want you in Arkham, Harley." Which was funny considering his roll in all my previous incarcerations. "I saw what it was like for you in there and I'm sorry. But I have to do what's right. If that means-"

"Pause." I held up a finger, "Rewind. Are you saying you _visited_ me, Bruce darling?" I certainly wouldn't have remembered what with all the sedatives and such.

He let a brief smile touch his lips,(and I liked that it was a little devilish) then leaned back in his seat. He looked like 2 million dollars in his dark blue Armani. "Bruce Wayne would never be seen in a place like Arkham Asylum." When my eyes narrowed, he sighed, "But Batman had to make sure things were in order there. Not just for you."

The last bit seemed to be tossed on as an afterthought and made me smile.

"You sure know how to flatter a girl." I glanced over at the police station and sank a little further in my chair. "If I hadn't been half-conscious and starving, I might have appreciated it."

A flash of emotion passed over him before his expression once again became stone. Something I hadn't been meant to see, but couldn't translate anyway. Was Bruce recalling the sight of me in that cesspit of a sanatorium? With Regret?! The man cared more than was healthy.

"So…uh, are we really gunna do this?" I nodded toward the police station, "Because I'm letting you know, there _will_ be a fight. Are you ready for that kind of scandal, _Mr. Wayne?"_

For a moment, he only stared at me, distant eyes drifting to the station and back to me before his gave a heavy exhale. My body relaxed visibly when he shifted out of park and we started down the road. Not that I knew what the hell all this was about anyway, but I was grateful it hadn't gotten ugly.

"Taking you in wouldn't solve the problem." He grumbled but I ignored it. Whatever helped him sleep at night (and kept _me_ out of a cage.)

The ride passed silently for a while after that, until awkwardness took over and I started fiddling with the radio. He was taking the long way to the Narrows, which meant a while more trapped in here. Halfway through a cute song about rough sex, Wayne cleared his throat and glanced over.

"You've been shot."

My eyes went to my gauze-wrapped thigh then to his face, cautious. "Thank you Captain Obvious. Last night didn't go well for anyone."

Of course that was _his_ fault, but I assumed he knew that.

"I just took the call and checked up on it. Apparently you had the man cornered."

Something dropped in my gut and I narrowed my eyes. "Kuklinski?"

Bruce continued as if I hadn't spoken. "He said you took his **daughter**, Harley. How could you let that monster _anywhere_ near a child?" When I didn't answer, he trailed off and studied my expression. "You didn't know."

"That is was that wop _bitch _who tattled? Of course."

His lips thinned a bit as he realized he might have started a little trouble. I watched the guilt slid into place with the rest of his armor and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. He'd probably flog himself later, or something equally as unnecessary. For now, he eyed my legs and stomach.

"How'd you get the bruises?"

It wasn't the smoothest subject change, but it caught me off guard none the less. I was a quick healer, but the cane marks from Mr. J hadn't fully healed yet. Trust Wayne to bring them up and make me uncomfortable.

"Do you usually ask questions like this? Maybe we could discuss my weight and age later."

"So _he_ did it." This wasn't a question.

My jaw clenched and I looked out the window. "We were _fighting _last night, hero." It didn't even sound convincing to me. This wasn't fun anymore. Why couldn't he just ignore it like the boys? More importantly, why did his opinion even matter?

"Would you listen to me if I told you to get that leg checked out?" he asked this softly, back to staring out the windshield. Niether of us was in the mood to go down this road today.

"Sure." I shot back, "I'll just stroll into Gotham General and explain that I got shot in a gang fight for the Joker."

"Nobody _stoles_ into Gotham General anymore, Harley. Your **boyfriend** demolished it."

I let out a groan and covered my face, "UGH! You are such a _buzzkill_!"

The car slowed as we pulled into the Narrows. All I could think then was FINALY. Another minute of this jackass and I was going to snap!

Bruce was very quiet as he pulled to a stop at the curb. The doors did not unlock, so I remained still. Now that my mood was officially ruined, I just wanted to get home. Maybe the Joker was still peppy enough that I could sneak in a snuggle or more. _That_ would definitely lift my spirits. A tiny smile curled my lips as the hero shifted in his seat.

"Why are you targeting Kuklinski?" he asked. It was good that he came right out and said it, but he couldn't expect me to be that stupid. Did I really seem that dense?

"Let me out of the car, Bruce." I gazed steadily back at him, though he still refused to look at me.

"If you continue to target him, I can't be held responsible for the consequences."

The door's lock clicked open before I could asked what the hell that meant. Of course he wasn't responsible, this was a **mob war**. He had no part in it, unless Kuklinski was going to pull that baby shit again.

"Well I can tell you why_ I_ don't like him." I said gathering myself and getting out of the car. "He tried to bury me alive."

That got the hero's attention, but I was already slamming the door. Let him stew over it if he wanted. I needed to get back to my man. There were some problems that needed solving and he was just the genius to do it.

The car revved once, probably some kind of warning, but he could bite me. I watched Bruce drive off into the sunset like the storybook prince he wished he could be. I was beyond his saving, though, and no kiss would do anything but earn a kick in the nads.

I was pondering over knights in battered armor and bloody swords when the cell phone hidden in my boot started vibrating. I giggled at the sensation and pulled it out strolling merrily over to the alley.

"Howdy."

"Where in the bloody hell have you been?" Alec's growl made me pull back instinctively, then frown. Glad he hadn't seen it, I grumbled.

"Geez, you coulda been nice ya know. No need to be grumpy."

The Brit didn't speak but I realize it was because he wasn't holding the phone up anymore. I could hear the rustle of his jeans and muffled voices in the background. Someone yelled and a few people called back out.

"What's going on over there?" I demanded loudly, focus suddenly sharp. How much bad luck could we really have this month? Everything couldn't cave could it? "Alec!"

"Nothing's going on, the deal went smooth." But then he hesitated and cleared his throat so my body tensed for horror.

"_What. Happened_?" I demanded slowly. Alec gave a heavy exhale then coughed. I was about to start yelling when he dropped the news and my body went numb.

"The deals went great, but the boss never came back. We've had the boys looking since noon. The Joker is **missing**."


	15. Downward Spiral

**Ok. So recently my computer crashed and nearly wiped my harddrive. This is why I haven't updated, and I'm sorry, but the whole process seriously depressed me. I thought I'd lost nearly a hundred different stories and ideas.**

**Kinda zapped me of my inspiration.**

**Anyway. I'm working on getting back most of the files. I'll still try to post as soon as possible. I'm not going to abandon this story just yet anyway. Lol**

**I kid, I kid!**

**Also, sorry this one's so short, I lost the last half and I didn't want you guys waiting much longer. Little now, much more later, no worries.**

Two hours after that fucking phone call and my brain was still racing. I couldn't keep myself still! It was as if my brain and my body had split somewhere and while it skittered in and out of the alley, my mind conjured up a thousand horrible scenarios about what was happening to my Angel.

Then another thousand as to why it was all _my_ fault.

How could the Joker have disappeared? If he'd wanted a vanishing act he would have reappeared by now, right? I mean, it could be a gag, but what was the punch line; Give Harley a heart attack before she's 30?! If I hadn't been screwing around with Bruce…

My cell rang and I flipped it open without a word. Horror melting into rage more quickly than I should have been comfortable with. Alec though, being the professional he was, didn't waste any time.

"Mouth of the alley. We've got the van."

Without responding, I snapped the phone closed and stuck it between my breasts as I jogged up to the van. Alec, already hanging from the open side door, whistled and gave me a once over.

"Hope it was fun."

"What was fun?" the words slipped from my lips so maliciously that, for a moment, the Brit paused. But he wasn't new to this and hardened instantly after.

"Your reason for being gone today. Whatever, or **_who_**_ever_ it was."

_Riiight _about then is when I lost it.

The guys in the van jumped back in their seats when I tackled Alec into the floorboard. He seemed as shocked as them, eyes wide as plates. _He deserved it!_ I screamed in my head. How could he say such a thing? How could he possibly doubt that I wouldn't have done everything possible if I'd been there?! Loosing the ability to reason, I climbed up his body and began to beat at him with my fists. The wet smack of flesh was loud enough that everyone knew I wasn't playing around.

"Bloody _Hell_, woman! What-" but I uppercut his jaw, snapping his head back and teeth together with a loud_ click._

_"_This. Is. All. Your. _Fault!_" I managed to beat out the message before he snatched up my wrists and shoved me to the side. My spine smacked against the van door and I grit my teeth against the pain. For good measure (or maybe because he was just an asshole) the Brit hauled back and decked me right across the cheek. The blow snapped my head to the side sending me tumbling to the pavement.

"Bitch." Alec spat, touching his jaw a working the joints. His eyes narrowed on me and he arched a brow. "Feel better?"

Just as soon as the rage had come, it fizzled out, replaced by desperation and fear. Was my Puddin' in real trouble? _Could_ I have helped him? Alec hauled me back to my feet and helped me into the van with a shake of his head. The boys all watched me, waiting for my next outburst, but I had already begun slipping into the blank numbness of before. Noting this, the Brit tried to get me focused on...something.

"You always hit that hard?" his smile was wistful as he rolled his massive shoulders and sat back in the seat across from me. My fingers skimmed down to brush the yellowish cane bruises across my ribs, staring ahead rather than answering.

Somehow, this was all my fault. Somehow, I could have stopped it all from happening. I had to fix it. Had to find him. Had to-

"Harley?" Alec turned my chin, expression almost worried. He searched my face, apparently disturbed but what he found. Or what he didn't.

I pulled from his grasp and took the phone from between my breasts, flipping it open to dial a number I should never have gotten but was very happy to have now. What else cold I do? Who out there would possibly know what was going on in Gotham other than the one protecting it? The voice that came over the receiver was groggy, he sounded exhausted.

"You need to help me."

"What? Harley?! Is that-"

"You need to help me find him." My voice wavered a bit, but I managed to rein it back in a moment longer. Alec was watching me, completely lost, but I didn't care. Bruce could find him, even if he didn't want to help me. He would, I'd make him. I would do anything to save Mr. J.

**Anything.**

"I'm coming over." I told him, waiting for the refusal, but it didn't come. Maybe he was as lost as the Brit.

"Harley I can't-"

"I'll see you soon Bruce."


	16. Hitmen

**Author's note:**

**This is a really rough copy. Uneditted, sp forgve me. I'll go back and fix everything, but I figured after so long you'd rather have a flawed but finished copy, than nothing. More at bottom. **

**Read on.**

"So, whadoya you wan**t**, _kid_?"

The Joker's arm curled around my shoulders, tightening when I only gazed up at the menu.

"Big Mac..ooh! And a chocolate shake!" I clapped once and grinned nice and bright for the McDonalds cashier currently piddling himself over the Joker. Not that we'd done anything horrible yet.

Ok, so Mr. J had _kinda_ put his knife in this Asian woman on the way in…but she was making all kinds of noise and I was getting a headache.

The guy's mouth bobbed open like a dying fish when Mr. J pulled out his gun and tapped the counter.

"You heard the lady." He nodded toward the menu. The guy's eyes only widened again. (Impressive considering how big they were already) He glanced toward his trembling manager, huddled into the corner. She'd been whimpering and useless since we arrived.

"Oy." I snapped, leaning against my Puddin' with a frown. "Keep starrin' like that and I rip your eyes out."

The Joker tsk'ed, his black eyes meeting mine for a moment. "Let's _not_ be rude." He chided. The cashier looked at us as if we were completely insane, which of course…we **were**. Then, like someone had finally flipped his task switch on, he began punching up our order.

The Joker tapped his forefinger against the muzzle of his gun, ever impatient. When the guy was finished pushing his buttons, I turned and hopped up onto the counter in front of my Puddin'. His attention snapped to me, his expression blank, but I wasn't discouraged. I curled my fingers into his coat pockets and pulled him forward a step so that he stood between my knees.

"Don't _you _want anything, Mr. J?" My voice was all sweet concern and adoration. His tongue flicked out between his lips and disappeared just as quickly.

"Make that two…" he leaned around me to squint at the guy's name tag "_Mar__**k**_."

More beeping and the guy gulped. A tiny droplet of sweat beaded at the tip of his nose and splashed to the counter. The Joker followed it with his eyes then looked back up at the guy's face. The register began to whir and a small slip of paper rolled out.

We watched the guy gather our food and bag it. All this was done shaking like a Chihuahua. When he pushed it across to us My J pulled back from me to root through his pants pocket. He screwed up his face, biting his lip in concentration, then slapped a wad of bills and change onto the counter.

"That'll cover it." He grinned and handed me my shake and straw.

The guy looked completely dumbfounded, and I was a bit lost as well, but whatever. I sucked down my shake and watched the Joker pull his burger from the bag. Humming merrily to himself, he unwrapped it and took a mouthful. Sometimes this man was just so eccentric, I couldn't help but smile. He chewed fast then his smile faded and he turned his head to the side, looking at the guy from the corners of his eyes.

"No _pickles_?"

"Wha-"

The gun went off with a thunderous bang and bits of red and grey splattered across the ice cream machine. The body slumped backwards, one eye nothing but a blackened and oozing pit. I laughed softly as I continued to enjoy my shake. The Joker snatched his money back off the counter and shoved it in his pocket.

"_Service_ nowadawys."

**xxx**

"_Harley_?!"

I snapped out of the fond memory and looked up at Alec. The Brit's expression couldn't have been more concerned. I'd been loosing myself in visions of Mr. J since we'd gotten into the elevator. Apparently the distant look I was giving the floor didn't make him happy.

"You sure you're strait, love?"

He only got a nod.

The elevator dinged open and I rushed down the hall. Bruce knew I was in the building, had even given me the room code, which I'm sure he'd change after tonight.

Later I would look at this as my weakest of moments. I had long ago realized that my days as the obsessive, pathetic Harleen Quinzel were a disgraceful memory. I had been a little slip of nothing completely lost in an unrequited love that might has well have been with a Rockstar.

Completely unattainable.

Then I'd pulled myself from that tiny, insignificant life and found that my crush was not only within reach, but he came for _me_. Standing in front of the door to Wayne's penthouse, I fondled the three diamond-shaped scars on my right bicep. Alec fired up a cigarette, leaning back against the wall. He was slightly flushed, breathing a bit heavily, but other than that, he just looked irritated.

"How'd you get 'em" he nodded toward my shoulder.

"She used to smoke _those_ things. Learned real fast they weren't healthy though." Bruce nodded from his doorway, arms crossed and looking exhausted. His usual sharp suit was rumpled and hanging open. His tie half-handedly thrown around his neck. I stepped forward almost instantly and threw my arms around his big shoulders. Alec made a loud sound of disapproval and stepped forward, but I whipped back around to glare at him.

"_Don't. You. Dare_."

He went still and frowned heavily. I noticed that he seemed very disturbed by my expression, whatever it was, and wondered if I should try to calm down; but Bruce grabbed my arm and yanked me inside slamming it before Alec could follow. I stumbled against the stairwell in the center of the livingroom and frowned at him, eyes wide and questioning. If he thought I was hurt by the display, he would feel terrible about it.

Even if he didn't know it, he was going to trust me just enough that he told me where the Joker was stashed.

Bruce moved us into some kind of small library/study room. He leaned back into a large, black leather chair and motioned for me to take the ajurning one, but I couldn't waste the time on playing upperclass bitch with him.

"Please Bruce." My voice went soft, pathetic. He was at a loss as I climbed into the chair with him, straddling his lap. "Please. I _need_ your help."

"Harley-"

His words were cut off when I kissed him. Full on, open mouthed and desperate. There was nothing I wouldn't do for my man, and if this is what it took, then damnit I was going to suck it up and seduce Bruce Wayne.

The richboy was lost for a moment, then he grabbed my arm forcing me back and panting huskily all at once. His eyes were bright and tempted, but his damn mission was far too richious for sex apparently.

Or was he just gay? It would explain a lot.

All I could really understand was that he wasn't speaking and I needed what came from his mouth.

"Bruce. Please." He frowned as I trembled helplessly on his knees. "I know you hate him-"

"Stop." He closed his eyes and turned his head down and away. "What are you doing Harley?"

I didn't know. God damnit, I had no idea what I was doing. I couldn't think strait! Mr J had been kidnapped, and here the caped crusader was doing _nothing_. In fact, he was letting a very clearly deranged young woman rub all over him like a cat. (Maybe he just really liked that kind of thing.)

A ridicules image of a woman in a leather cat suit popped into my head and I laughed. The sound quickly became sobbing and Bruce watched me with complete horror. It was that special kind of masculine horror when they realize they have no idea how a woman's brain works and therefore have no answers.

While he stumbled over what he could do to stop my tears, I took deep calming breaths.

"Do you know where he is Bruce?"

The hero went stiff and distant then. His expression was cold and aggressive. Was he really that surprised? Why else would I come here?

Bruce stood and paced toward the wall as I busied myself with the marble busts decorating the room.

"Harley, please don't do this."

My voice was high and emotional, my movements so erratic it set him visibly on edge.

"I'm not asking you to _reunite_ us. I'm not stupid."

He scoffed and ran fingers through his hair.

"But Alec needs to know where he is."

"Oh…_Alec_ does?" He sighed heavily, glancing over at me then back toward the front door. His tone said he didn;t believe me.

Fine, if he wanted healthy commitment, I'd give it to him.

"You can take me back to Arkham." My voice was only loud enough that he heard me. The look on his face said he had not been expecting it, but it disappeared quickly.

"How would this even benefit you then?" Bruce growled.

I let my expression fall, like he should have known all along. Like I was hurt and sad that he didn't already understand. "Alec would get him out, Bruce. I would know that he was _alive_."

The hero rolled his eyes, but I could tell I was getting him to at least listen, which was a start.

"So you're willing to go back to Arkham, just knowing that the hired help is off to his rescue?"

"Don't sound so prissy, you Classist fuck. Weren't you _raised_ by the 'hired help?'"

Bruce arched a brow at me then shook his head."I'm just saying, how do you even know he's still alive?"

The fingers of my right hand popped where I was gripping his bust of an old king for support. My body felt as if it were slipping out of my control. Like the world was twisting in on itself and I was left to grasp at the edges of myself and pull them back like a beltless robe.

"Why wouldn't he be alive?"

The hero turned his eyes to the floor, his lips drawing into a fine line.

"_Why wouldn't he be alive, Bruce_?" My fingers, white from their grip on the marble bust, slid to the thinner neck. It wasn't as heavy as it looked, and I could lift the thing with one hand in the need arose. I would trust him to tell me first though.

"I don't know what you think it is I did, Harley, and I don't know what you want from me."

"What's happening to him?" I asked, voice cracking. That was apparently it because he took one strained look at my face and growled.

"You should't have done those things to the man's family." Bruce shook his head. "I know he's a thug, same as the rest of you, ( I bit back my retort there) but did you really expect him to to nothing?"

Fire boiled the blood under my skin and I clenched my jaw. "What did Kuklinski do?"

Bruce Wayne lifted his head catching a stream of moonlight from the window. His expression was one of regret. He knew he was about to give terrible news, as did I.

"You can't save him this time Harley."

**Alec**

"ALEEC!!"

After politely waiting in the hall for nearly an half an hour, the Brit was happy to pull his gun and power through the front door of this playboy asshole. The man was big, he'd give him that, but the guy dressed like a jackass, and Alec was quick to judge character when it came to those types.

He hauled ass into the living room where Harley had shouted from and pulled up short when he found her gripping a white bust of some king like it was holding her to the ground. Her eyes, usually a pleasant blue, were distant, but savage. She breathed heavily a moment and gazed down at the motionless lump that was Bruce Wayne on the carpet. Shaking her head, she tossed the bust at the corner, jumping when it shattered.

"You need to find some boys to contact Kuklinski." The girl was wiping tears from her eyes as she ordered him forcefully. Something about her completely vacant expression was seriously creeping him out, but he said nothing. Chances were the girl was ready to make with her inner crazy, and he didn't want to be the catalyst that set her off.

"What about the Joker?" he asked gently, going rigid when she turned her wraith-like gaze onto him.

"He…" her eyes fell and the words paused, then she shook it away. "He's in one of the houses on the edge of town."

"And what is he doing there?" Alec prompted.

She chewed on her lip. "Kuklinski wants this whole matter dealt with. He wants Mr. J dead."

"So…"

"So he hired professionals."

"Oh." He grasped for something placating to say. "Damn."

For a moment, she looked as if she were waiting to say something, then marched ahead, leaving him to tend to the unconscious but breathing prince of Gotham, and call in some friends to nab that slippery Italian, mother fucker.

**I've had horrible writers block for a while now, and I'm sorry. I thought it would go away once the stress was gone, but it didn't. I know what's going to happen in the next chapters, so it won't be too long for them to come out.**

**I just wanted to say that this fucking sucks, but I wasn't planning on abandoning this story.**


	17. Quick note

**Chapter 16 – Hitmen – has been edited and changed a bit, so you should go back over the bit with Bruce. Just saying.**

**Nothing big, but it makes a little more sense now. Also. **_**This**_** will be replaced shortly by the next actual chapter as soon as I get it typed up.**

**Sorry for all the slowness lately, I'm having serious issues this year.**


	18. What?

Kuklinski had crossed a line. According to Bruce, the stunt with his daughter had been too much. He'd hired 3 men of questionable moral standing to take care of the Joker. But that wasn't it.

He'd gotten the Batman in on it. When Bruce had taken me to the G.P.D, his intentions _had_ been to throw me into a cell bound for Arkham.

"_I knew something like this might happen. I thought it was better that you never find out, than go through this sickness you cause yourself."_

It'd been around that point when I'd lifted the bust and cracked it against his skull. Not only had he consorted with Kuklinski to kill my Puddin', but he'd taken me out of the picture to do so. I felt so angry now, I could almost feel the feral rage that paced in my gut like a caged beast. Getting to Mr. J was far more important, however, than my revenge, so I sucked it down and held it there.

Alec had called up all the boys tonight. The expendable ones were in a bus with the Brit and myself, along with a few trusted thugs. The long-term boys (i.e., the schizos and freaks that seemed to flock to the Joker like he was the unholy messiah) had all been sent to find and capture Kuklinski.

Capture, but not kill. That would be Mr. J's fun.

"You sure you can pull this job?" Alec, ever the pessimist, watched me from the opposite seat. Since letting myself go at Wayne's, I'd been feeling slightly off. It was the first time since leaving the place that I missed my medications at Arkham.

One in particular that they'd given me after the second month, when I'd starting believing I was never going to see Mr. J again and the isolation had really gotten to me. Sweet, little Doc Joan had given me some pretty blue pill that made me whole again.

Complacent and barely lucid, but whole.

Right now I missed it, because I felt as if I were slipping out of my own body. My heart raced so fast it hurt and a knot to big to swallow formed in my throat. The world around me looked dimmer than it had before, fading around the edges like a dying tv screen.

Alec nudged my arm and everything focused again.

"…house. What are we supposed to do _now_?" Alec's growl was annoying, he was angry with me, or frightened. I really didn't care which. I jumped out of the passenger bench closest to the bus door wrenched open the doors. Alec said a lot of British curses and rushed down to follow me with his gun out. His big arm swept out in front of me and he glared.

Mr. J could cripple me to tears with his eyes, so Alec's were nothing special. Wanting to let him know I was unfazed, I pushed passed his arm pulling the handgun from my bag.

"If we get sent back to Arkham, would you be the one to bust us out?"

Motioning for the rest of the boys to exit the bus, Alec frowned at me. "I don't think they'll let me intern for 'em again, love."

That made me chuckle as we approached the front door of the Hollywood house. (Or at least it looked like something out of The Actor style houses) "I suppose that's what happens when you shoot their nurse in the throat."

He grinned, forgetting his anger for a moment to remember that night. "She was a cute one too."

I laughed, then the boys all cocked their guns and we kicked in the front door. There was chaos for a moment as they swooped in aiming guns and searching for targets that just weren't there. We were expecting at least a couple thugs with guns or something. Maybe a big guy with a knife (one of the boys had _insisted_ it could happen) I'd only been hoping they aimed for the men before me, thinking I wasn't a threat. That came in handy more then I ever thought it could.

But I didn't need it.

"Are we in the right house?" someone asked while Alec arched his brow at me.

"You sure the prettyboy was telling you the truth? For that matter, that he actually knew _anything_ in the bloody _first place_?"

He better not have lied to me. Bruce read like a diary printed out to a high school. At least when I got close, he couldn't hide anything from me when I was really looking. Then again, he might just be that good at keeping secrets. He did it for everything else.

Had the bastard really-

A high, agonized scream shot into the air from deep in the house. My head snapped toward the sound and I dashed into the hallway ignoring Alec's yells. What if it was Mr. J? What if they'd really gotten the better of him and I found him just as they finished my Angel.

What if they took him away from me forever?

Tears welled in my eyes at the thought and I crashed into a door, nearly tumbling down a rickety set of cellar stairs. Another pained noise, but this time muffled as I rushed down the stairs. I had just passed the edge of the upper floor into the room when a gun went off from inside. I screamed and scrambled back, tripping over myself and falling down the stairs. I crashed down 5 steps and was stopped by a concrete wall at the bottom.

"Who the fuck is-" the panicked voice of a man on his knees made me look up. Another man held the front of his shirt in a fist his other arm outstretched toward me with the gun. The man on his knees had black hair and a potbelly, his aggressor was lean and tall. His hair a dirty gold, cherub curls around his face.

My brain sort of frizzled out for a second before it dawned on me that the pretty gold-skinned man was my angel. Right there he looked like it. His make-up had been cleaned away, his hair washed. He looked pampered, despite a few bruises across his bicep and right forearm. His lip had been split as well, but despite the trivial injuries, he was _perfectly fine_.

The boys came clomping down the stairs like elephants and the Joker's black eyes danced from them and back to me several times. The gun had lowered, but he still held it high enough to shoot me should he choose and I didn't move and chance it.

"Wha**t** are you _doing_ here?" My mouth fell open and I glanced back at Alec, but nothing came out. Mr. J gave an angry growl and shoved the man over onto his face. Stepping over the body he stormed up the landing and grabbed the front of my shirt, hauling me up and giving me a rough shake.

"Answer me, Haley." The way he grit the word through his teeth made my face fall into helplessness. What was happening here? I had come to save him and he was…pissed? How had that even happened? I'd done everything I could. I'd beat up the fucking Batman for him and gotten information.

On second thought…

"Kuklinski set this up. He didn't have the balls to come for you himself so he hired-"

"I know **that**." The Joker clenched his jaw and glared at me. I stumbled back away from him. Though I dropped to the steps, he wouldn't release my elbow, even tightened his grip. I tried to plead my case, but just didn't understand what was happening. Why was he angry at me?

"Where you so lost without me that you had to bust up Gotham to find me?"

I couldn't help my confused frown.

"It's been a few _fuckin' _days. Was tha**t** too _long_ for you?"

I shook my head then stopped and looked down at the carpet. What was my answer? How was I supposed to answer this?

The robe flapped open then and I couldn't make myself pull it back into place this time. My gaze on the carpet dimmed and I saw instead Mr. J wrapping his arms around me and calling me his Sweets, or Poo. When he smiled and squeezed me and…

**Alec**

He wasn't quite sure what exactly had happened tonight. Harley had sworn herself into a crusade that the Joker was in mortal peril, yet here he was…beating someone? The Brit was clueless on this one. If there had been hit men, the Joker must have gotten the best of the situation, as he so often did. That man was resourceful.

"_**Harley**_."

Even Alec jumped when the Joker boomed her name. He looked down at the motionless girl and frowned while the clown shook her.

"**Harley, **_**Look. At. Me.**_"

Alec became slightly concerned when she didn't even flinch. The Joker frowned heavily, slapped her half-heartedly then stepped back and gazed down at her. For a moment, nobody said a word. The hitman on the floor remained on his belly, breathed heavily, but complacent. Not so much as the kid though.

She was bloody _gone_. Checked out of her brain. Now the Joker hung his head and cursed under his breath. Mumbling irritated curses, he pulled the girl onto her feet and walked her up the stairs. The boys beat a hastey backtrack as their boss climbed the stairs dragging a blank-eyed Harley-Zombie.

All he could say was that after tonight, he was going to need a few drinks.


	19. Beautiful Mind

**I'm warning you know, this get's a little weird, but it's Harley's brain, so what could you really expect. Anyway, sorry for the wait, guys. I'm having fits of writer's block again. (It doesn't help that I spend all my extra time with my boyfriend. He is quiet the distraction, let me tell ya. I've never had so much trouble trying to watch a fuckin' movie. Lol. Not that I'm complaining.)**

**Anyway, drop me a line if you can. I'd like to know what you think of Harley's mental world. I had a similar dream a little while ago, didn't like it too much.**

**[]===[|--|--|--|}-------  
**

**The Joker**

They'd gotten back to the compound just in time for the sun to blind him on the way in. Harley, still throwing her little fit, didn't even twitch to put his sunglasses on, like usual. She just sat there in the van like a lump. Useless thing. She didn't even vie for his attention like she would have any other day.

It was starting to irritate him.

Once they'd gone back to his room, she stood where he led her like a brainless little zombie. Her eyes were wide and glassy, but blank when he looked at her, not that the quiet wasn't a pleasant change. He was sort of enjoying it. It was the way she just stared off at nothing that got on his nerves. His normal bundle of broken firecrackers had gone comatose.

He shoved her out of his way to the desk, growling that she should at least do _something_ useful. It was a slight surprise when he'd glanced back an hour later to her mechanically oiling the guns and polishing their knives. This time he just let her be. He would not waste what could be his only "alone" time in months, even if she was pissing him off. For once it was quiet and distraction free so that he could think about what to do next.

Harley had done her best, he had to admit. Charging in like daddy's baby, all grow'ed up. She'd worked herself into a panic, his little Pooh, and all to save _him_. (Well, what she **thought** was saving him.) It had been like your parents busting in on your after-prom shagging when Harley and her band of idiots had crashed in on his interrogation. He'd been right in the middle of a great party and she just whipped off the covers and killed his Jones.

6 hours later and Alec had directed the well rested boy away on a hunt for the Italian. It was almost a gift, his sending hitmen after Gotham's deadliest mastermind. He'd gotten the fun of a random slaughter, something he hadn't had since Harley'd suggested the Sorority house party. That had been lots of laughs, and he'd almost made a friend. The thought tickled across his mind to track down his near-playmate, but there were more important things than folly. Best left for other nights. He didn't often forget things, and when he did, it was only a matter of time before he remembered them again. He'd get to the co-ed later.

"Sir?" Alec's voice came through the door muffled and he knocked a few times. The Joker didn't answer, but Alec knew to come in anyway, there were no discouraging groans, or better yet moans to keep him out. His eyes found Harley before they came to the Joker. It was interesting, but The Joker didn't comment on it.

"Simon's on his way to get more boys and they're gunna hit Kuklinski's house." The huge Brit scratched the back of his neck and scowled. "I don't think we're gunna find too many open mouths until the bars open up. There's a chance we'll have to wait it out till nightfall."

The Joker licked his lips and stared at Alec a long moment, off in his head, then nodded and waved him out.

"I'm due for a na**p** _anyway_."

The Brit nodded and left the room after a quick glance at the blonde still polishing in the corner. He'd seen a look like that before. Tyler had been in love with his Pooh, but Alec didn't seem like an idiot. It was something else.

But it was also trivial, and boring. Unless the Brit tried to pull a Romeo as his predecessor had, the Joker didn't really care. His eyes went to his Blonde, still polishing away.

Alright, **now** this was getting _really_ annoying. He rolled up his sleeves, his coat and suit jacket already hanging in the closet. She hadn't said a fucking word since they'd left the basement. Why wasn't she snapped out of this childish little tantrum already?

"Harley." Not even a twitch at her name. He said it again, anger turning his tone deep and menacing. This time she paused in her rubbing and slowly gazed up at him. His eyes fell on the grip she had on her red and black _Snap-on_, white-knuckled and tight. She wasn't trembling as she sometimes did, however, which was curious. Completely at a loss for words at this point, he simply asked, "Are you hurt?"

The blonde's head bounced down and she looked vacantly at her clothes. After a long moment, she lifted her head back up and shook it.

"Good. **Now, **tell me why you stormed in on me while I was…" but the more his growled at her the wider her eyes got until eventually they seemed to dim, and she was gone again. Cursing, he cuffed the back of her head, growing angrier when she didn't even react. This Harley doll-thing was just _boring_. But it seemed that scolding her only made things worse, so he sighed and took hold of her wrist.

Halrey let him stand her strait, then he proceeded to undress her. Se didn't cringe away from him, didn't squeal or giggle, or leap at him like some half-crazed primate out to breed. She stared down at the wall and he grumbled to himself before taking her hand again and walking her toward the bathroom door.

If smacking her out of it wasn't going to work, then he'd just have to take the time to coax her back to the real world. The fact that she was responding at all was a good sign. But _oh_, when she was back, he'd make her pay for wasting his precious time.

She sat down on the toilet seat like a good little girl, though it made him want to hit her. She was no fun when she wasn't annoying him. It wasn't as of he could ignore the proof. Harley's incessant yammering had become too commonplace that now, without them, he felt even more distracted then ever. He couldn't think strait with her standing there like a statue.

He might have liked seeing her reaction when he filled the bath for her. Most likely it would have been utter elation or suspicion. He would have had to ignore her nervous chattering, when he broken little mind tried to find reason in his kindness. Now he just wanted to beat her until she talked again, be it begging or apologies, as long as she stopped playing living dead girl. Unfortunately that wasn't an option. As the room filled with steam, he moved her to the tub and made her sit in the water.

This day was just starting off terribly.

**Harley Quinn**

My dress was wet. It was odd, seeing as Mr. J and I were currently dining in Gotham's ritziest restaurant. I hadn't spilled anything, not that I could remember, but somehow I'd gotten soaked. And the water was hot, scalding, in fact, but I didn't complain, not in front of my man. The waiter came to the table with a bottle of champagne and I lifted my glass for him.

"Are you ready to go back now?"

Bruce Wayne , dressed in a server's tux, tilted his head at me and filled my glass. For a moment, it was confusing, but I ignored it. He frowned when I shook my head and pulled up the seat beside mine. Mr. J didn't seem to notice, he continued eating his steak, chewing fast and washing it down with the champagne bottle. Bruce would have to get another one if he kept up like that.

"You can't stay here, Harley." Bruce tucked a damp strand of my hair behind my ear. "You know that."

"I like it here." My voice sounded hollow, even to me.

"But this isn't _real_."

I closed my eyes tight, opening them to cracked tile and a fogged mirror. The room shimmered around me, then returned to it rich best.

"It's real enough." I told him, taking a sip of champagne that no longer bubbled on my tongue. Bruce sighed heavily and shook his head. He looked at me with a pity that turned my stomach then turned to the wall-to-wall windows that showed the Gotham sky line.

"The sun's coming up." He murmured. Fear that made no sense tittered up my spine.

"Don't let it."

He ginned. "I didn't make this rules here, Harley, you did."

When I looked back at the Joker, our table had lengthened. He was far away, still eating, still ignoring us. The restaurant shimmered again, the room behind it fighting to become real, but I wouldn't let it.

"What if he's mad at me?" I asked. The food on my plate had rotted, now crawling with maggots and roaches. I tried to stab one with my fork, but they skittered away too fast for me to catch.

"He'll be angrier if you stay." Bruce watched the bugs impassively. His waiter's tux had become a simple suit.

"But he loves me here." My voice wavered, as I gazed down the table at Mr. J.

"_They_ don't." Bruce drew my attention to a table close to ours. I hadn't noticed it before. The couple there was familiar, and it took a moment for me to realize it was my **parents.**

My mother's blonde hair was ratty and stained red. It hung across her right eye, shielding half of her face from view, but somehow I knew I didn't want to see it anyway. I knew the bone there was exposed, the eye socket broken. She'd taken a hammer to the temple, it wasn't very pretty. (Not that she'd been much to look at before what with the coke-skinny waif thing she'd had going since I was 6.) My father didn't look much better. Dried blood had covered most of his face, and stained his collar. His cheek bone had been smashed in, turning his face into a strange concave freak show.

"But I can make them leave." I frowned, "It's _my_ restaurant after all."

Bruce sighed. "You know it doesn't work like that."

As he spoke, my parents seemed to realize I was here. Their pale, dead eyes locked on me, their faces grim and angry. They hated me, not that I blamed them, and **here **they could hurt me back.

"Why can't it be like it was?" I asked gripping a table cloth that had become stained and torn. "Why is it all changing?"

"Because you're breaking, Harley." Bruce tilted his head, the pity back in his eyes, only now it didn't bother me. I was too concerned with the corpses that were standing from their seats to shuffle across the restaurant toward me. Everyone was standing, in fact. Now that I actually looked at them, I realized they were all dead, all familiar.

"Your victims" Bruce answered the question before I could ask it. "You didn't think you'd be safe from them _here_, did you?"

"But they aren't real." I argued. "They can't hurt me if they aren't real."

Bruce only sighed. "Someone should tell _them_ that."

The restaurant shimmered again, now it was a dingy room, the wallpaper peeling. I knew the place, but it vanished before I could pull its name from my memory. The corpses were closer, my mother's hands outstretched to grab me with her dirty, broken fingers.

"Can I come back?" I looked to Bruce, but he only shrugged.

"They'll be waiting."

"And the Joker?" He'd vanished from the room without my noticing, and with him went the clean splendor of this restaurant. It was old and falling apart around me now. The plates all moved with insects, the walls peeled away leaving holes, and through them I saw even more people. More copses.

More victims stumbling toward me to get the revenge they could never have in the real world.

"I'm scared, Bruce." And I was. Of what it would be like when I opened my eyes and woke up. Of Mr. J's reaction to my vacation from the world. Bruce, however, smiled, his knuckles brushing my cheek lovingly.

"Then you should feel right at home, shouldn't you?"

I smiled despite myself and gazed once more around the room I'd created. My mother's fingers curled around my dress, her rotting smile evil. I closed my eyes as the corpses closed around me, as my father's hand tightened around my throat; but the pain never came.

It was dark when I opened my eyes again, but quiet. The room was _our_ room in the compound and I was in bed. How long had I been gone? Looking down, I found myself clean, my skin damp. I'd been dressed in a candy-apple red negligee with black lace trim. Mr. J had gotten it because when I stood in the light, you could see right through the material. It was his favorite.

I looked to my left, down at the Joker as he snored beside me. Like usual, he'd forgotten to change or take off his make-up. He'd get to planning and wouldn't stop until he passed out, or got bored. Sometimes I could convince him to change between brainstorming sessions, but most of the time he slept in his suit.

He'd bathed me, I realized with a smile. Tears blurred my vision a moment before welling over and spilling down my cheeks. He'd taken care of his Harley girl, even when she'd shorted out. I'd fallen into a dream where he loved and cared for me, while _here_ in the real world he'd done the same.

Pulling the thick comforter further up my legs I snuggled down into bed beside him. He frowned in his sleep when I curled around him, but it went away quick enough. I smiled to myself and let my eyes close again. My guilt wouldn't manifest in my dreams, not while I had my man so close to frighten away the monsters. The Joker could scare away my boogiemen.

When I fell asleep, it was to the steady, constant thump of his heart in my ear.


	20. Sick 'em

**Hello again my lovies.**

**_This_ is where things really get fun. Or at least, they're about to. As I'm sure you'll notice, Harley isn't quite the same since coming back. That is, she didn't really come back, not _all_ of her at least. This should become obvious as we go along.**

**Hope you enjoy, and leave me some feedback. I need to know what you guys think so far.**

I'm not sure how long I'd been asleep, but when I woke, it was to an empty room. Not knowing that I'd come back, the Joker must have simply not bothered waking me up. The last couple days swirled hazily back to my memory and I bit my lower lip, throwing off the covers and jumping to my feet.

There was so much to do! And here I was, not doing it, whatever_ it_ was. I should be helpful. I should be…fed. My stomach grumbled, and with a giggle I realized I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten.

"Silly tummy." I murmured to myself and hurried from the room, smiling brightly.

The compound was alive with chatter. It echoed down the halls and bounced back at me like colorful waves. The sound melted into a single blur of music that played symphonies across my brain. My eyes drifted closed to listen to them all, finally here to help us again. Finally home. The Joker needed them all here now that Kuklinski had officially declared war.

I shoved open the swinging kitchen door with a giggle at the thought. Kuklinski in his black uniform, with his finger over the button and ready to blow us all sky high. What he didn't know was that the Joker had switched the wires and the whole thing was going to come back down on him when this was over.

"Poor little Italian bastard."

"_Harley_?"

I froze, startled to find the kitchen filled with a few of the guys, including Alec. Each one was staring at me as if I were from another planet, or had risen from the dead.

"I'm not a ghost." I frowned at the Brit who looked equally as confused as the others.

"Wha…nevermind. You're back though. We thought you'd be down for this one." He glanced over at the others and stood strait from his perch at the counter.

"Couldn't miss the fireworks." I smiled and headed for the fridge.

"Yeah." He said slowly, watching me as I rummaged through the great white box, finding nothing. Sticking out my bottom lip, I pouted and spun back around, hugging myself.

"Hey, Red?" Alec sounded cautious, and one of the guys licked his lips nervously.

"Hmm?" I didn't look at him.

"You're_ right_, yeah? Everything's…back to normal?"

My eyes narrowed and slid over to him. Still hugging myself, I'm sure it wasn't the best of threats, but the boys seemed unsettled. Alec was frowning in concern which only made me uncomfortable. I was obviously fine. Here was me, up and walking, talking (if a bit to myself). The proof was right in front of them. Harley was back in her meat suit and ready to play.

"Where's Mr. J?" I asked instead of answering his stupid questions. The Brit sighed, waving toward the kitchen door.

"Out by the pen, I think. We found a friend to tell us where to find Kuklinski."

He hadn't finished talking, but I was moving out of the room anyway. My body was a bit stiff, though I couldn't remember getting socked recently. Maybe I'd fallen while I was away? I shrugged, pulling back on my smile and skipping down the hall. I could hear the boys talking about me back in the kitchen, but I didn't really care. Let them gossip like high school girls.

Halfway down the hall, I stopped by a small dingy bathroom. It was dirtier then the one in our room, so I never really used it for anything but the sink. But it had a small mirror bolted into the wall, smudged and stained with rust and hard water, but usable.

No wonder they'd been staring at me.

My hair alone was ridicules. Sleep had tangled it, but somehow it had curled as well. My hair normally stayed strait enough unless I slept with it…but then I remembered that my baby had been so sweet to me last night and bathed me. Had he dried it, it would have straitened, but that was asking a bit too much, and I was grateful he'd done anything at all.

I turned on the groaning tap to splash cold water over my face. My eyes, normally a clear blue, looked cold and distant, even to me. I looked cruel, and when I tried smiling, it came across as crazed.

"Great." I sighed, touching the light rim of green around my eye. A bruise that was healing; older then the others. I thought back before finding Mr. J. Who had hit me? But then I remembered Alec in the alley way. I'd attacked him, launching us into the van, and he'd swung back.

It had been a busy week for everyone.

After that, I hurried into the docking garage where we kept the dog pen, eyes scanning for the Joker. I felt that special thrill ripple under my skin when I spotted him in the pen itself. He'd brought his new friend in to meet my babies, and they were all having a fantastic time.

"Please! I don't know where he went to. I'm just a lackey, I swear!"

Grinning, I moved quietly across the room, hoping not to draw the attention of my babies. For the most part they obeyed the Joker as if he'd raised them, but they tended to get excited when they saw me, and I wanted to watch.

"Keep your voice down, Kevin." The Joker scolded with a heavy frown. "I thought we _agreed _this was going to be a friendly cha**t**?"

The guy was on his knees, hands up as if to shield his face. His beady little eyes skipped back and forth between the Joker and his huge dogs. Each was stiff, hackles raised and growling angrily. The largest of the Rottweilers licked its chops in anticipation of the meal to come.

Kevin gave a pathetic moan and bent down, touching his forehead to the concrete floor. "He only told a few of his people where he'd gone. The trusted one, you know." He sat back up to plead with his eyes, though I could tell Mr. J was getting real bored.

"You're not being as helpful as you _promised_, **K**evin." The Joker glanced down at the dogs flanking him like four legged soldiers then back at Kevin. The message was clear. Kevin held up both hands, tears in his eyes.

"His wife! Since the daughter died, she's hardly left the house. She'll be there!"

My fingers curled around the links in the pen's fence and I looked in with a tiny smile. The Joker's attention snapped to me. As always, his black eyes made me frightened and excited all at once. He was beautiful and terrible, and best of all, he was mine.

Not that I would ever tell_ him_ that.

Mr. J moved toward the pen gate without another glance at Kevin the informer. I watched the rat's eyes grow too big for his head and he shot back onto his fat ass, crab walking away from the dogs as they moved in. Without the Joker or myself in there with them, they understood that all others were chow.

"Hey! I told you all I know! You can't-"

"Get 'em Babies." I smiled and leaned back against the fence as the Joker closed it, watching me. The dogs were on Kevin instantly, growling and snapping and tearing flesh from bone. He screamed so loud it hurt me ears, but my focus went quickly to the Joker when he stepped forward, closing the distance between us.

"Hey'ya Mr. J."

"You're talking." He said simply, starring at me until my smile melted from my face and I began to fidget. Behind me Kevin's scream became despite gurgles and something snapped.

"Sometimes they're full sentences and everything." My timid joke didn't even get a smile. In fact, his eyes narrowed. I felt the swell of a chewing out building, and he opened his mouth to start it but Alec and the boys came stomping into the room, loud and pushing at each other like schoolboys.

I won't lie. I was grateful.

"Do we know anything yet?" The Brit asked, his dark blue eyes dancing between me and the Joker with a mix of concern and amusement.

"You have terrible timing." Mr. J replied. Then with a sigh, he rolled his head toward the mess that was left of Kevin. My babies ate happily, pulling at rubbery strips of muscle like the gluttonous things they were.

Alec cleared his throat, avoiding the dog pen and the gruesome display inside, as did the boys. I saw one slap a hand across his mouth and gag, falling back a few steps. Perhaps a new recruit.

"Where do you want us to go?" Alec tried again. I watched him over the Joker shoulder, unable to help my smirk. He looked so flustered. The poor thing needed something to do with his hands. Hulk smash, and all that. He was a dirty job kind of man, and not working was starting to make him antsy.

The Joker turned back with a big smile and clapped his hand. "Fieldtrip, boys and girls. Hope you got your permission slips signed."

Some of them laughed, others forced smiles and glanced around unsure. Alec cracked his knuckles and smiled. "I'll get the vans started."

The Joker didn't bother replying. Instead he seemed interested in moving over to the locked weapons cabinet a few feet away. He was headed that way, when his eyes suddenly stopped on my face, and narrowed.

I stiffened when his hand snapped out and he grabbed hold of my chin, tuning my face to the side.

"That's no**t** mine." He growled softly, and ran his thumb across the edge of my shiner. I bit my lips, looking up at him nervously, but his eyes slid to the boys. To Alec.

The Brit's jaw clenched, but to his credit, he gave no other indication that he'd been the culprit. The fool who'd laid a hand on the Joker's woman. Part of me expected to see him die, be it gunshot of stabbing, but Mr. J released my chin to take hold of my upper arm.

"You're not going in that." He walked us across the room, right passed a motionless Alec and toward the hallway. I was still in the sheer red negligee, I realized with a slight blush. Bet the guys had all gotten a bit of a show. But then again, my lack of clothing, might have been part of the reason I hadn't been smacked yet. My comatose party had to have gotten him just a _little_ irritated. I was still waiting for his reaction.

Back in our room, he slammed the door and wasted no time pulling the negligee over my head. Now naked, I waited beside the bed as he went to the closet and slung around some clothes. He was mumbling to himself, about what I had no idea, but it almost got me smiling again. This seemed so normal. Getting ready for a night of mischief. And to think I'd wanted to stay in my head.

Well…

I snapped back to attention when a bundle of black leather came flying from the closet and smacked me in the face.

"Get dressed." He ordered, still rummaging around for a top.

I arched a brow at the leather pants, but didn't argue. They fit snugly and looked…well fucking fantastic. I'm not usually one to toot my own horn, but they really made my ass look scrumptious. I felt a little boost of power wearing these things, and pulling on my knee high shit-kicker boots over the bottoms.

When I straitened again, the Joker was standing right in front of me, holding a bundle of deep red and black material. His eyes slid down over me, pausing on my bare chest, and I could see the hunger in them. It made me even more eager to get moving. The shirt was tight; cut in asymmetrical strips that alternated between the blood red and shimmering black.

I held out my arms as if to ask what he thought, smiling when he looked me over again. He liked it. That was good enough without his admitting it. I was turning to head for the door when he grabbed my arm and held me firmly in place.

His free hand went back to my jaw, gently this time, and he inspected the bruise around the edge of my eye. It was fading, barely there, but noticeable if you got close. It was stupid to even think he might not notice.

"Did you **deserve** it?" he asked suddenly, throwing me off.

"I…um," But I couldn't lie to him. Didn't even want to. "Yes. I did."

He made a short sound deep in his throat, then released me, striding toward the door without another word. As usually, I scampered after him.

"So? Where are we headed, Mr. J?"

His smile was dark, his eyes glinting with their horrible intent. "Kuklinski hasn't been home in a while. Poor _Mrs._ K must be _soo_ lonely."

I grinned at the thought. "Guess we should help her out then."

He only laughed.

**With the next chapter comes the violence and fun.**

**^_^**


	21. K's Moll

**It's been a while.**

** Sorry guys, going through the process on getting a new comp set up. I'll try to have the next one up quickly.**

**Anyway, hope you like it. Leave me some feedback.  
**

The vans were rumbling and ready to go when the Joker and I got outside. We hoped into the growling monster in the front, Mr. J sliding into the passenger seat beside Alec with a sly grin. The Brit, to his own credit kept his face carefully neutral, even as the clown leaned over to murmur something close to his ear.

I was busying myself with my hair, putting it up into curling pigtails, but my eyes were on the rearview, and Alec's face. I watched as he went very pale and glanced back at me. He didn't hold my gaze, couldn't. The Joker laughed soft in the back of his throat and leaned against his door with a wide grin.

"Do we _understand_ each other?" he asked slowly, watching as Alec gave a jerky nod and made the first turn onto the highway. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his posture stiff and tense. Whatever it was the Joker had said, it was making the Brit very uncomfortable. My fingers brushed the shiner around my eye as I finished with my hair and I sighed wearily.

It seems I'd gotten him in trouble.

The Droogie beside me chuckled, shaking his head at the Brit and pulled out his knife. All the boys seemed to be checking their guns and whatnot. He oiled a small sharpening block and slid the blade across it. I watched with slightly narrowed eyes as he continued scraping the blade across the block. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard and I grit my teeth.

No one else seemed to notice, and the Joker was too busy staring out the windshield in thought to pay attention to his boys. The sound however, seemed to grow worse, grinding into my nerve and lifting the fine hairs on the back of my neck. It was terrible! The thug turned the blade over and began on the other side, but I couldn't take it.

"_It's sharp enough_!" I snarled, snatching the blade and stabbing it downward, missing his hand by a breath. The thug's eyes went wide and he scooted back in his seat, glancing up at Mr. J who had turned around in his seat at the outburst.

He titled his head at me, glancing down at the blade buried in my seat cushion. His lackey's jaw bobbed before h managed to exclaim.

"She tried to **stab** me!"

I took a deep breath, wondering why I had lost control like that and shook away my irritation as best I could. My finger, as white as Alec's, jerked away from the blade so that the thug could pull it back and tuck it away. He watched me carefully as Mr. J motioned for me to come closer.

With nowhere else to sit, I settled for his lap, pleased when he didn't object.

"Do you feel _better_?" he asked, starring up into my eyes too intently for me to hold. I nodded. "**Good**. Now, _this_ is what you're gunna do when we get there."

**xXx**

I was the first person at the front door when we arrived at Kuklinksi's house. (If you could call the huge, green lawned mega structure a _house_) It was covered in huge windows and fancy siding, the door under a dark overhang supported by small pillars. I felt like I'd stumbled onto Hollywood.

When the Joker had explained my role to me, I'd opted for a better front line than myself. It often saw first fire, but Mr. J was not listening to my input. (He might have still been mad at me.) When the bulky guy opened the front door, my heart kicked it up a notch. Mr. J had given me a fitted leather jacket, dark red, but beside the piece in my inside pocket and the blade up my sleeve, I was clean.

And vulnerable.

"Hey there, I'm here to see Richard." My smile was flirtatious and I cocked my hip, winking. The guy's eyes went to the strip of flesh between my shirt and leather pants, then rose to my face, making a pit stop at my chest of course. What was it with men in this town and ignoring courtesy? Already I was getting more uncomfortable with the plan, but took a slow breath and kept up my act.

"Mr. Kuklinski is unavailable. Why are you here?" He was short and to the point, this one, which for a moment wasn't good. If he was one of the single job-oriented bodyguards in this city, I was going to be pissed. And a little screwed.

I gave him my best little pout. "I was told to come to this address for a Richard. Unless this is the wrong place." I twirled my pigtail and nibbled at my lip a moment as if in thought. "Are you_ sure_ you can't help me?"

The guy's cold grey eyes lit up. He seemed to have caught up with my story, but his smile turned malicious. Suddenly I was starring down the barrel of a gun.

"Kuklinski ain't here, but why don't _you_ come on in?"

Holding up my hands, I swallowed and glanced toward the street. "Whoa there honey, I can just come back later."

He lost his grin and cocked the gun. "Get inside."

Ok, so this hadn't been the plan, but I could work with it. Hopefully.

"Ok, big fella, just calm down." When I stepped inside, he followed me with the handgun and looked me over again. I heard footsteps down the hall and lowered my arms so I could get to my knife, just in case.

"Never seen you around here before," Mr. Friendly chuckled, "Guess the guy ain't as clean as they say."

I didn't bother replying, just took slow steps back into the room until he laughed, turning his back on the door and shook his head.

"Come on, sugar, why don't you take off your jacket? Stay awhile."

Alec appeared in the doorway in time to shoot the guard who'd just come into the guard who'd just come into the room, gun drawn. Mr. Friendly spun around as if to shoot, but the Brit caught his arm and twisted the gun out of his grip, flipping I to press against his temple.

The Joker walked in, hands in his pockets, flanked by our boys. They flooded the room. When the other guards got here, we might match them.

"Holy shit, you're really here." Friendly gaped at the clown like he might dissapate right in front of him. Like he couldn't be real. Mr. J only smiled, moving to my side.

"We heard the _misses_ was home." He said as 4 armed guys burst in. They all pulled up short at the sight of the Joker. I bet none of them had really thought they'd come face to face with the infamous criminal on this job. None seemed pleased.

"**So**, is she _home_?" Mr. J titled his head to look at Friendly who squirmed in Alec's firm hold. I was happy to see the Brit had gotten his intensity back. Even smiled as he flexed his bicep to choke the guy up a little.

"You won't find Kuklinski this way. "friendly coughed, "He's not an idiot."

"I wouldn't go _that_ far." Mr. J raised both brows. When he licked his lips and I bit down on my own. I loved it when he did that.

Somewhere in the house bullets started popping and the guards all tensed. Our boys had the house surrounded and they found _Mrs._ Kuklinski fast.

"Now, Mr. J grinned at the guards, wide and crazed. "Why don't you all just put down those guns and we'll start this party nice and **slow**."

They didn't move to comply, so he sighed. "Fine. Have it your way." He waved a hand toward them and pulled me over to Alec. The boys smiled and unloaded a few rounds into the fucks. A fine mist of blood hit my cheek as Alec blew Friendly's thoughts into the carpet.

I let out a soft giggle and touched my face, laughing harder at the blood that came away on my fingers. It sounded somewhat hysterical. The Joker glanced over and arched a brow, but was distracted by the feminine scream deeper in the house.

"Guess we found her." I smiled to myself, rubbing the slick redness around between my thumb and forefinger. He didn't comment, but nodded toward the hall. We moved _en masse _ready for the next level.

"You feelin' all right, Red?" Alec murmured as we walked through the rich bastard's home office, through a pair of double doors. The room beyond was large and furnished for entertaining snobbish company. I pictured Kuklinski laughing at golf jokes and sipping scotch, but shook off the image with a grimace.

"Red?" Alec frowned, reminding me that he'd spoken.

"Oh…uh, sure." I didn't look for his reaction because it didn't really matter if he believed me or not. My mind was already moving to the rest of our night. How would this play out? Would this really get us closer to catching the Italian? I was still a bit fuzzy on the details.

"I don't understand!" the woman cried just outside the far door. "Why are you here?" She was shoved into the room and stumbled to the couch. Her eyes went wide when she saw the rest of us, then terrified when she noticed the Joker.

"_Santa Maria, Madre di Dio_." Mrs. Kuklinski's hand clasped at her throat and she stepped back, shaking her head. "He didn't tell me where he was going."

She was quick. Already being helpful. Part of me appreciated it, the other just saw Kuklinski's last living family member and therefore a dead woman walking.

"That's a shame." The Joker nodded, moving slowly around her to the small bar, "but I didn't really expect him to. See, _listen_, he- **your** husband-" The joker motioned fervently with his hands as he spoke, eyes dancing from her, to our people, and back again. "**He** still thinks that just because you don't have _information_, I won't _hur**t**_ you."

"Um…" I gave a little laugh and held up a finger, "Which, _obviously_, isn't the case."

Both turned to me then the Joker looked back at his new friend. Her eyes eyes stayed on me a long moment, shimmering with unshed tears. Her expression one of terror and desperation.

"She's right." Mr. J shrugged, "I'm _going_ to hurt you, but it's only to _prove_ a **point**."

Mrs. K sucked in a shaky breath, blinking as if he might disappear when she closed her eyes. Funny, I kept expecting to see the Restaurant of the Living Dead when I closed _mine_.

"I…" suddenly Mrs. K was talking to us. I looked around feeling as if I'd missed something. Had they been talking long? Was I zoned?

"I don't _understand_." She shook her head. The Joker raised both brows and licked his lips while the Moll looked around at us.

"Richard doesn't tell me anything anymore! I barely see him and now criminals from Gotham **News** are barging into my home, making threats…" As she went on the Joker turned to me and flipped my curly pigtail. I smiled nice and bright back at him and stepped closer, pinching the front of his coat.

He didn't smile, but I could tell he wasn't angry or anything, just bored. And here was perky, little, leather-clad me. Red lips, rosy cheeks, and dark liner around my cold, blue eyes. Ready to give into whatever he asked.

"_Cari Dio, _don't you even have the courtesy to pay _attention_?!" Mrs. K cried at the Joker.

"Uh…**No**." he replied simply. As if it should have been obvious.

"And _you_!" she turned her angry eyes on me. "you're just going to **sit** there while he murders a defenseless old _woman_?"

"No," I frowned. My blade slid halfway out of my sleeve and_ shinked_ open.

"I'm going to_ help_."


	22. Gettin' Started

**The Joker**

Something was off about his pretty little protégée. He _could_ say he noticed it when she tried to stab one of his goons, but that would be a lie. Besides, he'd thought about turning around and disemboweling the guy himself, so he couldn't blame her for the reaction.

The problem was it just wasn't _her. _

There was no physical change. She was still perky; bouncing where she should and tight everywhere else. (If he was going to have an assistant of sorts, she was at least going to be worth l_ooking_ at)

He watched quietly from the side while Kuklinski's Moll was bound to a chair, whimpering up at his girl. Her cutesy make-up job must have been unsettling, because it made the woman go pale…er. How the doorman had mistaken her for a whore, he didn't know. Then again, he hadn't fooled with that lot in a while, and this _was_ Gotham.

The point, however, was this; something was off about his pooh, and he wanted to know what.

Unfortunately, there were other, more important matters at hand than his own curiosity. Besides, it could all just be jet lag from vacationing in Catatonia. No need to get too excited just yet.

The Joker focused back on the matter at hand to find that Harley inspecting a row of family pictures. The edge of her knife clicked from one frame to the next as she moved slowly down the line. She stopped at a proudly smiling Kuklinski in a hospital room. In his arms was a purple, wrinkled bag of flesh the Joker could only assume was a baby. Mrs K grinned tiredly from her hospital bed, having just popped out the infant.

"Is your make-up ever smeared?" Harley lifted the brass frame with a grimace. "I mean, look at you. Not a hair out of place, perfects lips, I bet you even _smelled _nice." The girl went on to mumble to herself about the other pictures. The Moll glanced nervously between them. She knew to keep him in her sights, even if he wasn't talking.

Smart lady.

"Even right now." Harley clutched the picture frame to her chest and moved to Mrs. K. Her cold, blue eyes were wide, her brows furrowed. The expression was somewhat manic. The Moll went stiff when his girl sat across her lap.

"But I've got to tell you, this shade," she tsk'ed and rubbed the lipstick from the struggling Mrs. K, "It's all wrong."

The Joker tilted his head as he circled them slowly. Content to watch. Harley lifted her blade, the Moll wailing, but paused. Face uncharacteristically blank, she turned to him as if for permission. Curious as to what she might do, he nodded and the girl grinned ear to ear. It seemed he'd get to study his new Harley after all.

Mrs. K shrieked as the blade slashed down across her arm. The cut was purely superficial even if it bled, though you would have thought the Moll had just had her intestines ripped from her gut with the way she cried about it. Harley gathered the blood along her forefinger, bringing it up form the bewildered woman to see.

"This color looks great on _everyone_." With a childlike smile of joy, Harley smeared the blood across her captive's lips, then lifted the picture. "Well, go on." She said as if her plan was obvious. The Moll only turned away, fighting to get her hands free. Harley frowned, rolling her eyes.

"Fine." Grabbing the back of the woman's head, she leaned down and pressed her lips against hers.

**Well**. Would ya look at _that_.

The Joker paused, raising both brows. One of his guys cleared his throat while a few others shifted uncomfortably. With a little grin, the Joker wondered if he shouldn't introduce Harley to the red-headed bio-terrorist he'd met in Arkham. She'd seemed too feminist to fancy men. Perhaps…but there was no need to go filling Harley's noggin with thoughts of female power and all that nonsense. She was far to impressionable.

Mrs. K shrieked against Harley until the girl pulled back. She smiled bright, lips tinged with her captive's blood, then kissed the glass picture frame with an exaggerated noise.

"_There_." She sighed, standing again. "Just like a present."

The Joker had no idea what she was babbling about. Had a good inkling she didn't either, but the whole exchange had been…interesting. Shaking his head, he turned to the soon-to-be-late Mrs. Kuklinski, watching as she went paper white again.

"Well, I think we should take this time to get to **know** each other, don't _you_?"

The woman tried to shrink away from him in her chair, too terrified for screams, but didn't get far. Her ankles and wrists had been wrapped too tightly and her fingers were tinted blue.

"**You**." He motioned to a thug and the man snapped to attention, eyes wide. "Get the hotplate out of the car." Then after that one had scurried off, he winked at the sniveling Moll and waved over another thug. That one hurried off with his whispered orders and the Joker turned back to his hostage. Now it was just a question of what all he wanted to _do_ with her.

He was anticipating great fun.

She started wailing when he grabbed the back of her chair and dragged it back across the room. They needed some alone time, him and the Moll. Her chair hit the wall and he turned it to face him and the cluttered table to his right.

"Richard told me I was safe here." She began to ramble as he swept all her knick-knacks off the table with his arm. The crashing of glass and plaster seemed to frighten her more and she began to sob.

"He promised me! I didn't even know what I was hiding from…and now…" she choked on her tears and gulped don air, turning her glassy brown eyes up to him. "Please, I don't know what Richard's done to you, but he'll fix it. He will! Just tell him I'm here and-"

"Shut your mouth." He didn't even have to say it with menace, and she clamped her lips closed. He gave her a big smile, and began the process of removing his gloves, finger by finger.

"You don't have to beg for your life, _Angela_." He shrugged off his coat, she didn't like that he knew her name. "It won't _matter, _not really. See-listen-_Dick _is going to understand **this** message. He didn't get it with the brat, but _you,_"he chuckled, "I think it'll _Sink. Right. In_."

"You murdered _mio bambina! _Our Teresa." The woman hung her down and groaned. After a moment the looked wearily back up at him. "You'll take his wife from him too?"

The Joker knelt down on one knee and lifted her chin, grabbing it roughly when she tried to jerk away.

"You rot in **Hell**." She spat and he laughed shrill and loud, making the room go quiet.

_Maybe. If he **believed** in such places_.

His eyes snapped to Harley. She was outlining the bloody kiss print on the picture, muttering about wrapping paper and shiny bows until he whistled. The girl snapped her attention to him and he jerked his head to the side. Harley rushed to his side all wide-eyed and eager, her fingers dancing restlessly on the handle of her blade.

"Tell the boys to settle in. We'll be **staying** a while."

She grinned, nice and bright (which was starting to irritate him) but it faltered when his goon tripped into the room and set the hotplate on the table, plugging it in. Te second appeared soon after with a skillet and cooking grease from the kitchen.

"You cooking or something?" she asked, eyes sliding to the trembling Mrs. K.

"Or something." He smiled and patted her on her way. For a moment, the girl only stared at the heating metal, so he grabbed her wrist and jerked it toward him. She stumbled forward while he hooked a finger in the ring of her dog collar, tightening the links around her throat. She gave him a big blank stare, but went still.

"_Do_ as you're **told**."

She nodded frantically, making a soft noise of pain when he tweaked her wrist, popping something.

"Yes, sir." She squeaked and hurried off when he let her go. Following her progress to the Brit. When he turned back to Mrs. K, she looked disgusted. She didn't approve of the way he spoke to little Harley, even if the girl was psychotic.

His boys set up the skillet and grease then stood back. One swallowed, slightly green at whatever he imaged was going to happen next. The joker clapped his hands together and grinned, rolling up his sleeves to the elbows.

"**So**. Let's get _started_."

**Alec**

"Play with me!"

Alec turned to the girl with an arched brow, glancing at her man, "Uhh…" Then he saw the knife she was aiming at the wall and relaxed. "Bloody hell, Red. Sometimes when you speak-"

"Mr. J says we're making camp. " she interrupted with a bounce of her curls and her…curls.

The girl was off tonight. Her eyes were all manky and distant, like she wasn't with the rest of them but her smile was genuine enough. He'd seen her get caught up in her thoughts more often then usual and the way she'd just jumped in on the Joker's hostage… Something was definitely up.

He nodded absently as she explained their game target ( a circle covered tapestry on the wall) and waved the boys at ease. She didn't even seem too upset that she'd just been berated. Usually she tucked her tail and moped but now? She seemed downright giddy! Like a child. A few other boys took up their seats around the entertainment room, a few even pulled blades to join Red. Alec tossed a few, booing and cheering along with them, but his eyes stayed on the girl.

She made him uneasy. Something he wasn't used to from such wee things. Maybe it was her new kiddie-giggles, or the way her eyes danced across the room, never interested very long in any single thing. He just knew she was a mite battier than usual.

"No! _Please_ no!"

Alec glanced over to the Joker and K's unlucky bint. He was holding out his hand, looking her strait in the eye. His voice was calm, as gentle as the Joker could manage. This had always seemed more threatening than anything else to Alec. The Moll seemed to agree.

"Give me you _hand_, Angela."

Sobbing she shook her head, eyeing the sizzling skillet. The Joker stood slowly and stepped close to her. She yelped when he snatched the wrist he'd intended and pulled it out straight. Alec glanced over at little Red, her smile had fallen a bit and she was watching closely. The Moll let loose a blood curdling scream and the Joker cackled, drowning out the end of the sound. Harley blinked a few times then turned back to the wall, pulling her smile back on.

"Feel _free_ to let it** out**, Angie." The clown giggled lifting her blistered arm off the skillet. "Your house is nice and _secluded_. I bet the cops never even _bother_ with this place."

She sobbed, fighting against her bonds while he pressed his thumb against her blistered flesh. She groaned, shaking her head.

"You can blame your hubby for that. But I'm sure they get a **great** price for it."

"_Se dovessi camminare in una valle oscura, non temerei alcun male, perché tu sei con me._"

The Joker cackled again and scraped her chair closer to the table. He slipped a blade he'd pulled from nowhere between the buttons of her expensive blouse and popped them, one by one. Her praying grew more fervent as he brushed open the material and skimmed his knife down hr bared skin.

"Oy, England." Harley nudged him with her elbow and handed over her knife, "Your turn."

Alec missed his marl when the hostage screamed again, long and loud rivaled only by the harsh echoing laughs of the Joker.


	23. Messin' with Mrs K

**Howdy-Hi all.**

**It's been a stupid amount of time, I know, and apologize.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy this.**

**(And for those who don't get my nerdy-humor, a Time-Lord's pockets are far bigger on the inside than out, so they can hold lots of things without seeming like they _have_ things stashed in there. Trust me...it's relevant)  
**

The Moll might have gone into shock by now. After a few hours of playing with Mr. J, at least. Her head was lolling around the back of her chair, eyes half-lidded. The Joker hadn't done much to her after nailing her right hand to the arm of the chair, but that was only because she looked about ready to pass out again.

And he couldn't have that.

I was perched on the counter, beside the kitchen sink, where Mr. J was crouched down, rummaging through chemicals. He set them beside me, mumbling to himself about the swiftness of one and effects of another. Kinda bored, I picked up the bottle of drain cleaner and skimmed the label.

"Puddin'?"

He didn't look at me, but answered all the same. "What Pooh?"

Thrown by the term of endearment, I nibbled my lip. He must be in a _great _mood!

"What happens if you drink this?"

His black eyes slid from from the bottle to my face. For a moment he didn't reply, then raising his brows, he stood and whistled.

"**Al**-vin!!" He called, and I giggled at the reference behind my hand. The Brit appeared soon after, looking tense and exhausted. We'd been here a while, and already there had been a lot of death.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Do we have anymore of Kuklinski's guards left kickin'?"

Alec frowned, "You told us to shoot them, sir."

When the Joker only stared at him, he hurriedly added a 'no, sir!'

"Hm.." Mr. J glanced over at me, still idly kicking my feet from atop the counter, and sighed. "Bring in that new guy."

"Mike?" Alec paled slightly.

"And take his gun."

With that, the Joker turned back to me and gently pulled the Drain-O bottle from my fingers. For a moment, I was ready to complain, but he took a glass from the cupboard and filled it with the brightly colored liquid.

Mike entered the kitchen soon after, looking white as paper and twitchy. His beady little eyes snapped from person to person in the room before the Joker smiled wide and held up the glass.

"Drink this." He said simply.

The guy frowned, eyes moving to the Drain-O bottle and quickly decided it was a bad idea. Alec entered the room then with two other thugs.

"What?" Mike asked dumbly. He reminded me of some sort of rodent and I didn't like it. Not at all. Not one to be discouraged, the Joker shook the glass a little.

"I _sai**d**_ drin**k** this."

For a moment, Mike only frowned then with a growl, he batted the glass out of the Joker's hand to shatter on the floor. Mrs. K, apparently awake again, yelped behind her gag as the clown pulled his gun and shot the idiot in the back of the knee as he fled.

Mike screamed and dropped to the hardwood, clutching at himself. Mrs. K watched with bulging eyes and sobbed like a hormonal teen. Mr. J snapped his fingers, and Alec moved forward with the other two, dragging Mike up and holding him in place, head back.

"Harley," the Joker glanced back at me as he tucked away his revolver. (Sometimes he seemed to have pockets like a fucking time-lord) Without further prompting, I jumped off the counter and handed him the bottle. He motioned to one thug and the guy pinched Mike's nose closed turning his head away from what was about to happen. Even Alec was finding other things to look at than poor Mike. It didn't take long for him to gasp in a breath, and the Joker was already poised to attack.

His fingers curled like talons into Mike's cheeks as he tipped the bottle up and forced the guy to guzzle it. There was a breathless silence then, as everyone waited to see what would happen. I covered my mouth with both hands, chewing on my lip in anticipation as Mike blinked, then frowned.

And then he started screaming.

Or trying to. It came out garbled and choked, until he started heaving. Mr. J stepped back, watching intently as Mike vomited first drain cleaner then blood. Alec and the other thugs released him, moving quickly away as if he might be contagious. Without their hold, Mike pitched forward onto his hands and knees and continued to vomit between screams.

Excitement flared up in my chest, carving a smile across my face. I jumped up and dawn a few times, clapping and cheering, ignoring the sickened expressions of the other thugs. Mr. J was still gazing down at Mike until he'd stopped twitching, and then he tossed down the bottle.

I grinned wide and turned to him. "Show me something else!" I cried. He raised his fathomless black eyes to me, searching my face for a moment as if to see whether I was acting. With a sigh, he glanced over at Mrs. Kuklinski, now open-mouthed and gagging at the sight of Mike. When he turned back to me, his grin was malicious.

"If you _insis**t**_." He replied softly.

The Moll was too busy starring at the body that had been Mike to notice the Joker moving to a bag on the counter. He hummed to himself as he pulled out a small plastic case and popped it open.

"Can you move him?" I asked Alec, motioning to his late recruit. "He's in the way."

Expressionless, the Brit nodded to the boys and as one, they stepped forward and hefted the corpse out of the kitchen. Mrs. K followed their progress until they'd made it to the other room, her eyes filling with tears. She groaned though her voice was hoarse and ragged.

"But…he worked for _you_." She was saying, "Why did you kill your own man?" she tried to pull at the bonds of her left wrist, but was too weak. Her other hand, the one nailed to the chair, barely twitched and she hissed in pain. "You're crazy! _Fottere matto_! Why would you-"

"_Silenzio, _lady. _Damn_. We get it." I smacked her on the back of the head, moving to sit at the kitchen table beside her. Mr. J came back from his bag of toys with a lighter and a large sewing needle.

"Play nice, Harley." He chided, though I could hear the smile in his voice as he moved to her other side. He was in such a fantastic mood, and for that matter, so was _I_. Rolling my eyes (while he was distracted of course, and most;y for Mrs. K's benifit) I leaned forward to watch him.

"So, whatcha got, Mr. J."

The clown smiled, holding the sewing needle aloft, and struck the lighter to life beneath it.

"Did you know the eyes are made up mostly of fluid?" I nibbled at my lip and shook my head, "At a _cer_tain temperature, the fluid inside the eyes will begin to_ boil_." He grinned turning the needle in the flame. "In _some_ cases, the resulting pressure can even **pop** the orb itself."

I grinned brightly and fought down the excited chill that accompanied his intellectual tone. My man was brilliant and so creative.

"Will it look like easy-cheese, like in _Hostel_?" I asked. The Joker looked up at me, his grin sly and held out the needle.

"Why don't you find out?"

Ignoring Mrs. K's strangled cry (Mr. J had pulled her gag back into place) I took it. The heated metal however was far too much for me and I yelped, dropping the thing into Mrs. K's lap. Tiny little blisters began to rise on my fingertips.

The Joker arched a brow and picked it back up. "Hold her head." As I moved to comply he gave the needle an extra run through the lighter's flame, then forced open her right eye.

She fought her best, but a night of torture and blood loss had made her struggling as effective as a child's. It took almost no effort to hold her in place as the Joker held the needle just above her eye; long enough for her to anticipate the pain, then slid the tiny steel spike into her pupil.

The reaction was instant. As Mrs. K shrieked behind her gag, the white of her eye turned an irritated pink, and then it began to swell around the iris. Like rubber, ballooning out around the edges of a flat surface. It was gross, until a small bit of yellowish puss oozed out around the needle. Then it was _disgusting_.

The Joker pulled the needle free with a trail of puss-mixed blood. For a moment I gagged a bit, because it looked as if her eyes had swollen enough to hold the needle. As he pulled, the tiny membrane rose with him until the steel popped free and Mrs. K's screaming became wracking sobs.

Alec burst into the kitchen just as Mr. J was wrapping his arm around me and watching his victim writhe in her chair. I frowned at the Brit with his terrible timing, and then went very still. He was flushed and out of breath, as if he'd just run laps around the house, a cell phone dangled from his hand.

"Kuklinski's on the move." He said quickly, getting the Joker's attention in a snap. The clown turned, slapping his palm down over Mrs. K's mouth to further muffle her obnoxious wailing.

"We just got word from Sam that he left the docks in a big bloody hurry. Said he might be heading this way."

Mrs. K, breathing like a beached fish, shook her head. "Y..you've known where he…the whole time..." her head lolled back a moment then lifted again as she fought to remain conscious. "Then why…why did you need…"

"_You_?" The Joker asked, raising both brows. He giggled a bit and shrugged, twisting his finger idly around in my pigtail. "Boredom, petty revenge. Mostly you were just_ convenient_."

She opened her mouth as if she were going to speak again, but her head fell back and she finally passed out. Something I was thankful for, because I don't think I could have handled looking at her disgusting eye anymore.

"Mr. J?" I asked softly, laying my head on his shoulder, "What are we gunna do till then?" He lifted my chin with a long, paint-smeared finger and smiled. Still at the kitchen door, Alec cleared his throat.

"We've got maybe and hour before he comes kicking in doors. Probably armed."

"That's plenty of time." The clown replied, waving the Brit away and pulling out one of his knives. "Harley, there's a syringe of adrenaline in that bag over there. Wake up our friend?"

I nodded and hurried to comply. What other fun games would he come up with tonight? And what would Kuklinski do once he saw his sweet Angela? Excitement filled my chest like ice water.

I couldn't wait.

**So I was on a mission to see if the heated needle thing was the real deal, and I found this video. ****Hot needle in the eye makes things go all wonky. It's real. I'm scarred for life, kinda a little intregued, but _still_ with the scarring and the all-together GROSSNESS of that film.**

**Anyway, just thought you should know of the pain I went through for this chapter. Lol. (Only half serious there) As for the Drain-O bit. I don't believe it would effect someone to that extent, but that's the fun of films and stories.**

**I could go all _Kill Bill_ with the violence up in this bitch and you couldn't stop me! MWA-HA-HA!!**

**I won't do that though, because I like to keep touch with just a _little_ bit of reality. At least in this story. Reality is the basis of the Nolanverse, so I will respect that.**

**Anyway, leave me some feedback, be it priase or strait-up setting fire to my ego and dancing in the ashes.**

**-Calamity-**


	24. Sparks

**I was looking at pics of the Joker for inspiration and I found that one of him sitting in the jail cell. You know, the one where he has that obscenely sexy smile that makes you just want to crawl into his lap? He's so lean and looks so fucking **_**good**_** in just that vest and shirt and...-cough- _SO_, about the picture. It's **_**that **_**smile I'm talking about in the bathroom scene.**

**Yeah...**_**that**_** one. I advise taking a good long gander at it before reading this chapter. Just to get the image that **_**I **_**have fresh in your heads. So's we're on the same page. ( If you've got no idea what I'm talking about LOOK IT UP!! Or, you know...PM me and I'll send you a link)**

**Anyway, it got my mind on naughty things, that picture, and I wanted to add in a scene like **_**this **_**but didn't know where, so **_**screw**_** it. Throwin' in some random fun before the drama hits. Hope you enjoy and send some feedback.**

**OMG, Smex!!!**

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The boys were getting their grub on in the living room with the unconscious Mrs. K, compliments of her kitten-decorated credit card and my fantastic phone-sex voice. The guy on the other end hadn't even charged us full price on account of my promise to make his tip _extra_ sweet if he came to us on the hush-hush.

Now he was dead, mutilated on the couch, and the pizza place he'd worked for had no idea where he'd delevered to. I'd done it for my Puddin' since he was still all antsy for Kuklinski to show and needed to let off some steam. We'd even played a little more with the wife while we waited. Mr. J had given me a fun little anatomy lesson with her hand and everything!

First he'd set me in his lap, and then showed me where and how to cut to de-glove her hand in one solid peice of skin. It hadn't worked out so well, being my first time. I got most of the _top_ side stripped, but he'd only laughed.

_"Practice makes perfect, Sweets."_

After that, he'd sopped up as much of the blood as he could, tying off her arm so she didn't bleed out too fast and began to show me the different muscles and tendons, and how they all worked. I was pleasantly surprised by his professor voice as he spoke, naming the things in Latin and explaining their functions like he'd studied to be a doctor or something. I loved it when he showed his brilliance.

We'd let her sleep after that, only slightly nervous that she wouldn't wake up again. The Moll had lost a _lot_ of blood, but by the obnoxious little groans she gave every once and a while, she was still fighting. That was good enough. Besides, we didn't _really _need her alive when Kuklinski got here, tortured and dead was good enough. He'd still get the message.

Alec made a comment about the pizza guy slumped beside him on the couch and the guys laughed. The Brit showed no sign that he was bothered by the dead man, or anything else that was happening in this house. He'd stopped turning green every time the Moll screamed or begged Mr. J to stop hurting her. Now he smiled and joked and ate his pizza next to a mutilated corpse. I was trying to run fingers through my hair, but the little pizza bastard had gotten his sticky blood all over me and my Puddin'. It made my pants feel wet and disgusting, my shirt squished if I squeezed it and dripped onto the carpet. I didn't even want to _imagine_ what my hair looked like.

Mr. J was not as smiley as the rest of us anymore. He paced back and forth in front of the window, waiting for word that our guys on the outside had spotted the Italian, but so far no news had come. We still had some time to relax, but the clown was anxious. In my opinion, he needed to cool down, which is why I approached him.

"Puddin'?" He kept his boiling gaze on the window, but stayed in one place. My eyes fell to the blade he was fingering, then the blood covering his bare forearms. He'd pushed his sleeves up, to avoid mess, but the pizza guy had been a squirter, so his shirt was ruined. Not that he really cared, he had more. Could _get_ more.

Have I mentioned that I _love_ his sense of fashion?

"Puddin'?" I tried again, tentatively reaching up to touch his shoulder. He jerked away, spinning to glare down at me with a scowl.

"_Wha-__**t**_, Harley?" He hissed and I swallowed what I could of my fear.

"Well, it's just that..."

"Spi**t**. I**t**. _**Out**_."

"We've got a while to wait now, since no one's heard from the _goombah_, and I just think that-"

"What?" he asked with a nasty smile, "What do _you_ think? It _m__**u**__st_ be _important_."

I didn't take the mockery to heart. He was tense, and quickly loosing his good mood, which is why I needed to distract him.

"Well, I think you should kick back a little, you know? Cuz..." He was turning his full attention to me, tilting his head and looking at me from the corners of his eyes. Again I swallowed, "Um..if you get too stressed you might just explode when he finally _gets_ here, and then you won't get to have all that fun you'd wanted to."

He licked his lips, glancing at the boys, at the Moll, then back to me and stepped forward. I backed up against the wall, and his arm came out to brace beside my head, the other twirling his knife between his fingers.

"So?" he asked in a deceptively calm voice, "What _did_ you have in min**d**?"

I pulled on a shaky smile, titled my head and reached up to finger the buttons of his shirt. His eyes followed the motions and he frowned a bit, but didn't bat them away.

"I was looking through the house earlier," I said in my best coy voice, "And I know how you like to look your best for company."

"**M**_hmm_..." his smile had returned a bit; twitching in the far corner of his mouth. His eyes slid down my bloody frame and back. The smell of him, gunpowder and blood and that special scent that was his alone, was making my head spin.

"Well, Kuklinski has the _biggest_, shower I've ever seen. It's got all kinds of spouts and handles and even this _neat_ little bench." As I spoke, my hands slid down to his belt, curling around the hem of his trousers. When I looked up at him, it was through my lashes. And he raised his brows, licking his lips again in that quick, flash of a movement that always got my attention. "I could..._show_ you."

For a long moment, I waited, for his response, biting my lower lip. I all but crossed my fingers and toes. Then, with a soft little chuckle, his flipped his knife into the air, caught it and pulled away from the wall, dragging me with him. When his arm went around my shoulders, I felt that first initial drop of anticipation in my gut as he walked us across the room, pausing to murmur something to Alec. The Brit grinned like the lecher he was and winked at me when the Joker couldn't see, and then we were moving into the dark hallway.

He already knew the layout of the house, it seemed, so I didn't have to 'show' him anything. But as we made it into Kuklinski's bedroom, my anticipation was laced with a tiny slice of fear. What kind of mood was he in now, I wondered? We'd been playing in some heavy unltra-violence. Would he keep up that trend? Would he teach me a _lesson_, or rock the wall off my clubhouse?

The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind us was louder than it should have been. Echoing in my mind like we were in some sort of cave. The Joker's arm slid from my shoulders, the tip of his knife grazing down my arm as it fell away too. I took a deep, slow breath and peeled off my jacket, setting it with my hidden blade and the small clutch purse on the edge of the counter.

Those fathomless, dark eyes tracked my movement, his smile small and wicked. Almost predatory. I took a moment to appreciate the general shape of the clown. Lean, and taller than me. Beneath that crazy suit was hidden a toned body, something I'd always found thrilling and surprising. I loved everything about him; from the green-tinged golden hair, to the marred flesh of his scars, even those tiny quirks in his walk and speech. He was utterly beautiful, glowing like a city on fire. _Perfect_.

The Joker seemed to be waiting for me to do something, not that I minded taking the lead. I just never expected it to last long. He had a way of dominating even when it wasn't expected. I'd be on top, running the show, when he'd make his move and turn the tables, and suddenly I was panting and begging, but it never bothered me. I liked him taking control and he was so _good_ at it.

"Well?" he asked, brow arching as I only stood there. He didn't seem irritated by this, more amused than anything else. I grinned and turned to the shower, skipping happily over to turn the thing on hot. He watched me from his place by the door, still smiling. When I turned back my own grin was flirtatious. I pulled the bands from my hair, shaking it down as best I could, though the blood made it wild, and slowly approached him.

"Can you help me with the ties, Puddin'?" I turned around, gathering up my hair and flipping it over one shoulder, pressing back against him. He didn't speak, but his hands curled like talons around my hips and moved me forward again, sliding up to the lacing of my odd shirt. I heard his blade _shink_ of the counter and flinched forward when it slipped under my shirt and cut through the laces.

I lost so many clothes that way.

I shrugged the thing down my shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then turned back around to face him. His dark eyes fell to my exposed chest a moment, then lifted. It was sort of making me nervous that he hadn't said much of anything yet. The tiny smile was great, but it could mean so many things. Wanting to make sure this was going the way I'd hoped, I tilted my head, batting my lashes.

"You gunna join me Puddin', or just watch?"

The Joker still didn't reply, but suddenly he was stepping forward, hands going to my hips and spinning me around to shove me back against the counter. I made a soft sound of pain, but it ended in a giggle, and he knelt to lift my leg. My boots were removed roughly and tossed across the room, then he snatched at my pants and stood, eyes locked with mine, and tugged them down. I hopped up onto the counter and kicked them off, fingers going to his buttons and hurriedly unfastening them. When I peeled off his shirt, it wasn't discarded like everything else, but placed in the sink. When I'd moved to unfasten his trousers he finally let out a soft laugh.

We stumbled over to the shower together, him kicking off his shoes and socks, tossing his pin-striped pants over to the counter. When we made it to the shower, he shoved me inside under the water and followed, his movements slow and methodical. Stalking me like a predator. As the blood in my hair mixed with the water and trickled into the drain, he shut the glass door and advanced again.

His arms went to the wall on either side of me, pressing me back against the cold tile. A shudder raced up my spine and I let my eyes drink up the vision he made, skin slick with blood and water. Any thoughts of actually bathing fled when he growled, deep in his chest and his teeth grazed my throat. A tiny moan slipped out of me and echoed around the stall when he bit down. It hurt, and I was sure there'd be a bruise, but that only drove me on.

My hands went instinctively to his chest, fingers curling to drag my nails down the hard lines of his abdomen. At his hips, I reached around and pulled him flush against me, unable to stop a breathy giggle. The Joker gave a quick, wild laugh and moved back, ignoring my frown of protest, and grabbing my arm. He spun me around and shoved me hard, against the wall. I groaned, arching back into him, but he pushed me flat again and tsk'ed in my ear.

His hands slid down my arms, closing around my wrists and he lifted them above us to a wash-cloth rack. First one and then the other, forcing me up almost to my toes. He wrapped my hands around the bar and told me to hold on tight. His teeth found my shoulder, my throat, the back of my neck, and my eyes drifted closed from the pleasure. One hand snaked around to flatten against my stomach, and again I pressed back into him. His hand slid upward, very slowly, curling around my breast and squeezing until I gasped.

"Please?" I whimpered, only loud enough that he could hear it over the water. He liked it when I begged.

"Please _what_, Harley?" I could hear the smile in his voice as he teased me. His free hand went into my hair and wrenched my head to the side so he could trail more of those painful little bites down the column of my throat. Breath hitching, I gulped down the warm steamy air, and forced myself to say the next bit.

"Fuck me." It was hard to get out. Shocking that I _did_. I wasn't usually this vulgar, but it was just one of those times when I couldn't bother with caring. We were so _close_, and if he stopped, I might die.

Behind me, the Joker went still, then he laughed and tightened his fist in my hair, yanking at the roots. "Oo-**whoo**, naughty girl. _Watch_ your **mouth**."

I clamped my lips shut, hoping he'd know I was promising to do so, and suddenly, he kicked my legs apart and the hand on my breast slid up to my throat. For a moment, I couldn't breathe, but then he pushed inside of me and all my air expelled out with a harsh sound. At first, I feared that he wouldn't let me draw another breath, but his grip on my throat loosened just slightly and I gasped.

Unable to stop myself, I dropped one arm down to curl around his neck, letting my head fall back onto his shoulder. He grunted, and pulled out of me, grabbing my arm and yanking it back up to the bar. I whimpered in protest, only caring that he'd stopped.

"I _told_ you." he growled into my ear, "Don't. Let. Go."

The way he said it, the low timbre of his voice, the way it rumbled into me from his chest, only made me more desperate to make him finish this. I gave a few frantic nods, holding onto the bar so tight my fingers went numb. After what seemed an eternity, he released my wrist and we were, _mercifully_, connected again.

My next moan was much louder than the first. I could hear it echoing off the walls in the bathroom, punctuated by the hollow pounding against the shower tile. He was not gentle with me, never was, and honestly I loved that most. Our sex was raw and hungry and bruising. Sometimes it even ended in tears and blood. We were animalistic. Forceful and desperate.

I could hear him beside my ear, the harsh panting breaths as he pounded into me. His greasepaint was washing away under the constant rain of hot water. It smeared across my shoulder and into my hair, flashing glimpses of the tan skin beneath. I wondered idly how it was he _could_ be tan after the constant make-up, but the Joker gave a particularly hard thrust and my thoughts scattered.

Without warning, he pulled out of me again, making me groan and whimper and all but beg him to continue. He ignored this and backed toward the large bench built into the shower wall, pulling me with him. Thankfully, this part was out of the direct spray of water, so when he pulled me down into his lap, I didn't slip off. His hands gripped tightly at my hips and he looked up at me. Those eyes that should be brown, seemed almost black, his smile turned up at one side, and another shudder passed up my spine.

I sat down over him, hissing when he pushed up into me again, and gripped his shoulders for balance. And then we were at it again. The harsh, nearly painful thrusts, the heavy breathing. His teeth went to my breast and I cried out, the sound twisting into a moan. One of his arms curled around my back to pull me closer, making it easier to find my tender flesh. I _loved_ it when he bit me. Those sharp slices of pain, the hot feel of his breath on my skin. It was intoxicating. I very nearly came right there from his teeth alone, but I controlled myself as best I could, head falling forward.

"Harley?" His voice was ragged when he spoke, but better than mine. I couldn't even produce English words.

"_Mhmm_?" I asked, fighting back the little sounds of pleasure that came with each thrust.

His hand on my back flattened, ghosting up my spine, and he grinned against me. "**This** was a _great_ idea."

My smile was ear to ear.

**xXx**

My legs were shaky as I dug through Mrs. K's dresser. I'd lost track of time, but seeing as Alec hadn't rushed in to get us, I assumed Kuklinski hadn't arrived. Or, possibly, the Brit just didn't want to get shot for interrupting. Either way, I was glowing. My smile hadn't left me since we'd finished in the shower, and even the Joker was whistling merrily to my right.

While I needed an all new wardrobe, Mr. J had re-donned his pin-stripes and now searched through Kuklinski's closet for a suitable shirt. As I searched, I found myself stealing glances at him, and all his lean shirtless glory. He'd already reapplied his face, but the rest of his skin was bare and gleaming. It was hard to concentrate when my thoughts continued to reel back to the shower and him and how he'd made me-

"Harley." I jumped when he spoke, not looking at me, though his voice was pleasant enough. He pulled out a dark green shirt, bit his lip, and tossed it to the floor. "Stop stalling."

Officially caught, I silently cursed his inhuman perception and went back to the dresser. After a moment or so of _actually_ searching, I found a dark green sundress thing, and grinned. When I turned around to inspect it, I noticed the Joker's eyes were on my still-naked (save my boots) self, and resisted the urge to shout, _Ha! Caught you too!_

The dress buttoned all the way down the front and was detailed only by thin shimmery, vertical stitching. Hurridly I pulled it on and buttoned the thing up. The bust was cut to display my breasts, and being that I had no underwear to speak of, it did just that. As Mr. J buttoned up the light blue dress shirt he'd settled on, I pulled on my fitted leather jacket and twirled around in my new dress. The skirt was cut to hang in an almost uneven flow, so when I spun it whipped out around me and I giggled.

The Joker watched me from the closet as he straitened his vest, (only misted in pizza-guy's blood.) He had that wicked half-smile again as he fixed the cuffs, eyes sliding down to the skirt as it flashed my naked thighs beneath. Distantly I heard the sound of dogs and stopped mid-twirl.

"My babies!" I grinned. I'd completely forgotten they were in one of the vans! "I should check on them."

Mr. J opened his mouth to say something but was cut off when the bedroom door burst open and Alec rushed in, eyes pointedly at the ceiling. "Boss?"

"We're descent, silly." I giggled and started spinning again, humming to myself. What had I been doing? Everything was slipping away, and blurring into memories of what had just happened. God, it had been like Chirstmas!

Alec shot me a look as if to curse that I'd brought attention to it, then turned back to the Joker. "Boss, Kenny just called. It's showtime."

I clapped excitedly.

"How soon?" the Joker asked. Alec shrugged.

"You hear the dogs?"

Mr. J grinned, big and frightening and nodded toward the door. "Lights out. Clear the living room. Nobody makes a sound."

"Like a sur_prise_ party." I smiled to myself, picking at my dress skirt. The Joker shot me an arched look and batted my hands away from the material. I blushed when I remembered Alec could still see me and had probably just gotten an eye-full.

_Whoops._

"Move, Harley." Mr. J ushered me quickly from the room, eyes glinting and eager as he found his coat and gloves and pulled them back on. "_Showtime_."

* * *

**Hehe...oh the naughtiness. Sorry about all the biting. It's just that personally, I find it **_**awesome**_**, and it struck me as something two sado-masochistic lovers would be into.**

**And now, alas, we must return to the **_**actual**_** storyline...pity. that damn picture is a great inspiration though. ;D**

**BTW- A "Goombah" is a derogatory term for an Italian thug. I could have used Wop, but I looked up a bunch of nasty names and for some reason this one just stuck out. Probably b/c it's so ridicules and I can't really see it being offensive b/c of that. I mean **_**really**_**, silly word. Anyway, now you know. (And knowing is half the battle)**

**Sidenote: Hee-zah for the whim-whams. I'm glad you guys enjoied the last chapter. ****Don't forget, your feedback drives my writing. What'd you think of _this_ one?**


	25. In the Dark

**Kuklinski**

When he first headed toward the car, Marcus, his bodyguard and closest friend had grabbed his arm. His expression was grave, angry that Kuklinskihad refused to let anyone come with him to the house.

"It's a trap, Richard. You know it is."

He pulled away, loaded a new clip into his gun, clicked on the safety, and holstered it.

"Damnit, you son of a bitch, **think**!" Marcus raged. He could only look at him and whatever was on his face made the man pause.

"It's _Angie_." he said softly, imploringly. And that had been it.

He parked the car at the front gate, shooting the two clown-masked goons that he found there. Not because they'd seen him, terrible watchdogs that they were, but he was boiling now. Rage whispered harshly that they'd been part of this. They'd helped kill his little girl and now they would do the same to his wife.

On the way toward the dark house, he'd kicked the bodies.

Gun at the ready, Kuklinskiopened the door, trying to remain quite. The house was silent, all the lights out, but he knew this place and had no trouble moving from the small entrance hall into the living room.

Then he heard her.

At first, he couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Angela, he found at the center of the room tied to a chair and making the most terrifying sounds of pain he'd ever heard. All his air escaped him and he fell to his knees, hands going up to touch her, to prove she was _still_ alive, still _with_him. When his fingers slipped across warm dampness that could only be blood, he made his own animal groan of pain and terror.

"_Mio bella_?" he whispered. Her head was lolling back around the chair and he reached to lift it. The gun he placed in her lap and cursed when she flinched. Idly, he noted that her shirt was open.

"Richard?" Christ, her voice was so _weak_. Hardly a murmur, and croaking from her throat as if she'd swallowed sand. She drew a trembling breath and whimpered.

"Yes, baby. I'm here." he raised up to kiss her cheek, her hair. That too was slick with blood and he spit it out on the ground.

"It hurts." she cried falling against his arms in the chair. God, she was trembling like she'd been locked in a freezer.

"What did he do?" the question was soft, but insistent as he held his wife. Her big brown eyes lifted, blinking away tears and she shook her head.

"Cut me...and.._my eye_. I can't _see_, Richard." Her voice grew frantic and he hushed her, smoothing a hand over her hair. He didn't want to ask. Didn't want to understand what she was saying. _Not Angie_, he thought, his chest so tight it was hard to breathe, _Not his angel._

"I think," she drew a wet, ragged breath, "I th-think I'm _blind_..." but she trailed off, her breathing turning into coughs. "T-told me it was a message. Said you'd _get_ this one. I...I think he's ruined my hand."

The last bit was said in a frightening calm that made Kuklinski pause. Was she in shock now? It would be a small favor as long as she remained lucid. He tried to see through the darkness at her hands, but couldn't make out anything more then her silhouette from the shadows. Bracing himself, he ran his fingers down her arm, pausing at her wrist. There was so much blood here. Bile rose in his throat when his fingers grazed something flat and cold.

"Is that..._madre di dio_," his voice broke a second, leaving on an exhale, and he sagged. It took him a moment to calm enough to speak to her. "Is that a **nail**?"

She nodded, very slow against his palm, tears slipping down his wrist.

"Did he..." he cleared his throat, "did he nail this one too?"

"No." she shook her head in the dark. Kuklinski moved his hand to the other side and cursed when his fingers slipped across her blood-slicked skin and sank **into** her hand. He jerked back when she winced and shook his head.

"_Bastardo crudele_." He spat, gritting passed his tears of rage and fear. Angela didn't need to know he was frightened. She had to believe he would get her through this. That he would save her, as he'd always promised he would.

"You have to..._go_, Richard. Have to..you can't..." she couldn't finish, coughing more and choking on it a moment before she sagged.

"I'll kill him." he vowed. "I swear to you Angie, I'll make sure he _dies_ for all he's done to us." When she didn't respond he shook her. "Stay with me, Angie. _Ho bisogno di te. _I _need_ you."

A girlish giggle rang out in the silence, edging on manic, and somewhere close in the room. Kuklinskitensed standing with his gun out and blocking his wife. The child-like laughter faded slowly and he heard someone moving to his right.

"You hear that, Puddin'? Ain't he just the _sweet_est thang?"

Without pause, Kuklinski swung his gun toward the crazy bitch's voice and fired twice. In the brief flashes of his fire, he saw that 1. He'd missed the whore. and 2. they were _completely_ surrounded by the Joker's men.

Harley was breathing heavily in the darkness, and gave an indignant cry. "He **shot** at me! Did you_ see_ that? He just-"

"_Shut your mouth_." A light flickered on at the sound of the Joker's voice, bathing the room in dim, ghoulish light. Kuklinski blinked a few times, but kept his gun raised, finding the clown by the living room door. His little slut stood against the wall, a bullet hole inches to her left. She was wearing one of his _wife's_ dresses. One he'd bought to prove she still looked fantastic even after having Teresa. To prove he still wanted her and always would. That little _bitch_, he'd fucking **kill** her. Kill **all **of them. He trained the gun back on her and began to squeeze the trigger.

"Richard?" Angela's eyes rolled to the side, searching the room, but not seeing it. In the dim light of the cracked lamp, he could see the blood that bubbled at the corner of her mouth as she spoke. She was so pale and.._oh __**god**_. He felt more bile when he saw everything that had been done to her body. Her hand was peeled open, nearly all the skin simply gone, exposeing bone. She was bruised,_ burned_, and her **eye**...He hated himself for in, but he had to look away.

"I..wanna go _home_." she pleaded.

"You _are_ home, Angie." he said, unable to move. To do much of _anything_. She was dying now. He knew it, her brain misfiring. She didn't even know where she was anymore. Angie shook her head, or tried, really the movement rolled her head to the side and she blinked slowly.

"No." she insisted. "_Home_, Richard. S..school's out by...nn..now." She gave a weak smile, tinged with blood, "Teresa will be...scared if she's alone f..for long."

It felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Kuklinskifell back a step, head hanging a moment, he drew a trembling breath. "Baby..." he reached up to lift her head, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Baby, Teresa's _gone_...she's..."

For a moment, her feint smile remained, and she looked at him as if she didn't understand, then the light in her eyes dimmed, just a bit, and she made the softest sound of agony. "Richard?" she whispered.

"Better act _fast_, Dick. She doesn't look like she'll **make** it."

Rage blinded him when the clown spoke and he spun to face him, gun trembling. "_**NOT ANOTHER WORD**_!" he bellowed. With a dark laugh, the Joker raised his hands in surrender, miming a zipper. He should have shot him then. Over and over until the bastard's disgusting face was nothing but a wet chunky mass on the floor. But then he looked at Angie.

Would this be the last time he spoke to her? The last time he saw her? The thought made his head spin and he braced himself on the back of her chair, gun falling slightly. He couldn't do this, he couldn't loose Angie.

"_He_took her." She was saying, starring off into nothing gravely. Her voice was a soft, broken groan. "Killed my baby girl."

"_Tech_-nically it was the blood filling her right _lung_ that _kill_ed her." The Joker interjected. Angela looked his way, brow furrowed as if she couldn't believe what she'd heard.

"What?"

He rolled his eyes, "You know, when a lung gets..._ruptured..._All that blood...well," he shrugged, "Makes it kinda hard to _breathe_. So it wasn't really **me** at _all_." He nodded holding up and hand, "It was drowning." he glanced to the side, "In her.._blood_."

Angie's eyes filled with fresh tears and Kuklinski fought not to shoot the man right there. "Stop...just shut up."

"I'm just saying." The clown said huffily. "Giving **credit** where it's _due._"

"I said shut the fuck **up** to crazy son of a bitch!"

The Joker's attention snapped back to Kuklinski and he could almost see the freaks hackles raising.

"You know, I don't think you're in any _po-sition_ to tell me much of _anything_, **Dick**. In fact..." He glanced at a big blond thug by the front door and nodded. The guy lumbered over along with a few others. Kuklinski went rigid as he felt the cold metal of a gun pressing into the back of his head. To his left Angie was getting the same treatment. With panic filling him, he held up the gun in surrender.

The Joker moved forward then, fixing his gloves and straitening the lapels of his purple coat. When he got to the center of the room, his impossibly black eyes flicked up to meet Kuklinski's, then drifted to his wife. Smiling ever so slightly, he reached out and stroked his hand over her hair. Kuklinski came unglued and lunged but the huge thug was there to hold him back.

The guy hadn't even flinched. Instead, he gave a heavy frown and motioned toward the gun in Kuklinski's hand. "I don't think it's sch a good idea that you're playing with that. I mean," he licked his lips and slipped it out of Kuklinski's fingers, "Guns are dangerous toys, Dicky. Didn't you're mommy ever tell you that?" He shook his head and tsked. "If you're not careful they could just go off."

To punctuate this, he waved the firearm and pulled the trigger. Across the room, a thug cried out and fell to his knees. He'd been shot in the arm. Mouthing sorry, the Joker turned back to Kuklinski. "_See?" _He handed it to a thug beside him. "_Besides_, I don't much _li__**k**__e_ guns."

"Can we just..."Kuklinski closed his eyes a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The Joker leaned in, nodding incurigingly and asked as if he was listening hard, "Just do whatever you're going to do. Cut the bullshit."

"Well," he shrugged, "Since you asked so _nicely_." Suddenly everyone was moving. Angie's chair was dragged away out of his sight and a few thugs had moved to lift what looked like projector equipment. "Harley, _dear_." The little blond bitch came skipping across the room, smiling huge and bright. Again Kuklinski noted her dress, and again he wanted to rip out her heart for wearing it.

"Yes, Puddin'?"

"Can you keep our **guest** _com_-fortable while I get our little_ present_?"

She nodded. As the clown passed, his hand slid across her stomach, and just that tiny contact made her swoon. Biting her lip, she giggled and clapped once.

"Alec, wanna help me get him settled?"

The huge thug smirked and forced Kuklinski forward toward a chair beside their display table. Everything had been thrown to the floor, and the floor was covered in broken bits of glass and plaster. He was forced into the chair while another thug pulled out a roll of duck tape to secure him to it. Harley jumped up onto the table beside him, kicking her legs like a little girl.

"I love your house, by the way." she smiled. There was something different in that grin, that he couldn't place. Something _off_. "Especially your shower." Behind him, the thug called Alec was chuckling. "Anyway, after Mr. J and I tried it out we had to borrow some clothes. I hope you don't mind."

She was trying to rile him, but he wouldn't let her. He'd been in business with terrible people for far too long to fall for these tricks. Instead he wondered where they'd taken Angie, he could hear her, but with his back to the room, he prayed they weren't hurting her more. He had to get her out of here, but how? He was not so naive to think that begging or offering a trade would satisfy the Joker.

"You really shouldn't have left her here, you know."

At that he froze, turning his glare on the bitch. She was looking down at a picture. The glass was cracked, but he knew it was the glamour shot of Angie they'd had taken last year. And just to the right of her smile was a bloody kiss print. The girl traced it with her finger, her expression slightly dazed.

"You know this game, should have known enough not to leave her. Not alone."

"She _wasn't _alone." he grit out. The girl blinked and looked up at him, then gave him a look that said _Pah-lease_.

"Those idiots patrolling the doors? Yeah." she rolled her eyes, "_That_was a challenge." He bristled at the sarcasm in her voice. "Shame on you." here she actually glared at him, "You should have _known __**better**_."

The way she said that. So insistent, almost urgent. For a moment, he thought she was actually upset by this, though that would make no sense. And her eyes; frigid and blue. When had they began to look so cold? So _unsettling_?

One of the thugs curse as he dropped something and her attention, thankfully moved to him. She set down the picture with a loud smack, letting him know how it had been cracked before, and suddenly she was smiling again. Alec finished binding Kuklinski and turned his chair to face the room again.

"You want me to tape his mouth?" he asked with a accent. British? Harley shook her head and hopped off the table. Across the room, Angie was still in her chair, her eyes half-lidded. Before he could begin worrying again how long she had left, the crazy little bitch straddled his lap with a grin.

"It's a pity, you know, that he's going to hurt you." she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, fingers playing in the short hairs there. "I _like_ you, just the way you are. All suave and charming, even if you did try to bury me alive." She crinkled her nose and he gave a tight smile.

"Good times."

Her smile fell a bit for a second, and that strange chill was back in her eyes, but with a breath it sank away again. She glanced at the projector that was being set up, while thugs cleared off the biggest wall in the living room.

"You really shouldn't have pushed him the way you did. I'm sure you wish you hadn't. It was stupid." her attention was back on him, her brow furrowed, "All of this, your wife, your _daughter_, it's your fault."

Rage took over yet again that night, and Kuklinski smashed his head into her face. The girl stumbled onto the floor, witha cry, clutching her mouth, then scrambled into a sitting position.

"One of these days you're going to start boring him Harleen." he spoke very softly so that only she and the thug beside them could hear. "Just like everyone else. And he's going to make you suffer, just like _everyone else_. So pay real close attention tonight. This will be _you_ soon enough."

She only stared at him until the thug helped her back to her feet. And then her gaze was moving to the purple that flashed at the door. She smiled big and bright again, but he saw the way her eyes flicked to the knife glinting just out of his pocket. She knew, like everyone knew, that despite their relationship thus far, the clown wouldn't keep her around forever.

The Joker glanced between the two of them with a wide grin, and tossed a jewel case at the Brit thug. "Get this ready." he said distractedly and rubbed his hands together.

"Now, to the _**real**_ fun."

* * *

****

**It occurred to me just before posting this that I'd left out a piece in the earlier chapter. The comment Kuklinski makes about Angie sounding as if she'd gulped sand was because in one version the Joker **_**did**_**, in fact force her to swallow some claiming it was vitamins or something of the like. It was brought from Teresa's sandbox in the back yard. I don't really know why it got edited out, but oh well. Can't change it now.**

**I originally wanted to write this in Harley's perspective, but then I realized that it didn't have any of the emotion that it does as through Mr. K. Harley isn't capable of processing this level of...well, **_**emotion**_**anymore, so it was left to Dick to show us what happened. What'd ya think?**

And now for something I think you guys might REALLY like:

I have to tell you all about something I found recently. If you already know about the Joker blogs, then my only question is why the HELL didn't you tell ME?! -cough- Anyway, seeing as you're all fans of Mr. J, you'll cream your pants for this guy...I know I did.

**The site is _thejokerblogs. com_ ****and he makes videos. His impersonation is _flawless_ (with the exception of his bellow. Only Mr. J can makes shivers race up my spine so far) And he looks...god...just the way Heath's Joker looked, it blew my mind. He even licks his lips and has those little hand and expression quirks down. And his _eyes..._ -groans-**

**ANYWAY, if any of you have been down because you think you'll never see that Joker again, you HAVE to check this guy out. And BONUS, it's even got Harley. In fact, the story seems to be motivated by the fact that Harley's gettin' hitched and Mr. J doesn't like it. **_**Not. One. Bit**_**. (sorry, had to) Even Crane makes an appearance. (hilarious, btw, with the sandwich and the mask. omfg)**

**But, for all the ladies out there, this guy's spoken for. Really, don't even try it, my friend and I have already gotten my mother's garage ready for when we kidnap him and make him our slave. He's even got the **_**costume **_**perfect. Seriously, I had to take a moment to myself, if ya know what I mean. -wink, wink- Nah, I'm kidding....maybe...Holy shit I'm gunna have FANTASTIC dreams for the rest of the month. **_**Anyway**_**, I plan to coerce him with wedding cake, since he loves it so much. ^_^**

**Go to his Youtube link watch the videos (in order) and try not to have a tiny orgasm at your computer....trust me, this _will_ be difficult.**


	26. Twisted

The couple was pulled together into the center of the room while Alec moved over to a laptop that connected to the projector. Kuklinski wasn't watching him though, his eyes of course were on his half-dead wifey and the way her skin was growing paler by the minute. She didn't have long, so Mr. J needed to get this show on the road.

"You know Dick, you really brought this on yourself." The Joker shrugged, watching a thug approach the moll with a hammer. At first Kuklinski looked as if he were about to protest, but the guy was using it to pry out the nail that jutted from the back of her hand. She whimpered with each pull, until finally the thug ripped it from her hand with a wet sound and a short spurt of blood followed. She open and closed the hand weakly, clutching it to her chest. Her ropes were cut, because, honestly, she wasn't going _anywhere_ in her condition.

Kuklinski scowled at the guy who met his eyes only a moment before hurrying off as if ashamed. Boy did _he_ have the wrong job.

"You killed my nephew, it was expected that I retaliate."

"Ex-_pec_-ted…" The Joker repeated almost to himself, raising his brows.

"You killed blood." Kuklinski grit out, "I may have disliked the little bastard, but I couldn't ignore it without looking weak."

"In hindsight, maybe you should have." I murmured, gaining an angry glance.

"What have I done that prompted _this_?" he asked incredulous, nodded toward his wife. The Joker simply looked at him a long moment, then cleared his throat and stood strait.

"_Fir-rst_, you took my girl." I smiled when Mr. J wrapped an arm around my shoulders and shook me gently. "In fact, you tried to** kill** her, and that was just_ rude_." He frowned, releasing me, "Only_ I_ get to do tha**t**."

I giggled, despite his comment and Kuklinski's eyes briefly went to me. He was afraid, actually afraid, and it was fantastic.

"_Then_ you tried to turn on **me**." The Joker moved slowly behind Kuklinski, "Killed a few of my men and even ran to the** bat** like a little _girl_." He leaned in close, smile fading, "No one likes a tattle-tale, Dick."

"I shouldn't have fucked with you," Kuklinski sighed, "You've made that clear."

"No," the Joker grinned and stepped back around to face the mob boss, "But I'm about to."

When his fist snapped out to tangle in Mrs. K's hair, I couldn't tell who started yelling first. The Joker let out a peel of laughter as he dragged the Moll across the table.

"No! Don't hurt her, please!" Kuklinski was shouting so forcefully, it was making his voice ragged. Alec held his shoulder so he didn't tip his chair struggling, but boy did he try.

"Richard!" his wife was sobbing again, but the sound was cut short when Mr. J backhanded her. This made Kuklinski all but breath fire.

"You son of a _**bitch**_!"

The moll rolled with the blow, clamping her usable hand to her cheek with a whimper and remained on her side. I covered my mouth to muffle the laughter and Kuklinski shot me a loathing glare then turned back to his wife. The Joker grabbed her shoulder and rolled her over noticing, belatedly, the hair he'd ripped out dragging her that still clung to his glove.

"Please!" Kuklinski tried again, "Please god, **don't**. I'm begging you!"

At that, the Joker pulled out a switchblade and hit the catch. At the sight of the knife, the Italian went crazy and Alec had to lean all his weight into keeping him down.

"Wait." I said suddenly, as Mr. J moved to cut the moll and all attention in the room snapped to me. The Joker's eyes narrowed as I moved to his side, still smiling. "I don't think she can lose any more blood, Puddin'. She'd just pass out anyway."

Kuklinski lost the tiny bit of relief he'd grown when he realized I wasn't trying to help. Not _him_ anyway.

"Besides," I said with a wicked smile and took hold of the hand that so tightly gripped his blade, "I'm certain you've got a thousand more interesting way to do her. Something that will keep her awake no matter what." I sure as hell did, but this was his show.

I lifted the blade to my mouth, enjoying the way he followed it intently. With a throaty chuckle, I parted my lips and drew my tongue along the edge of the blade. The joker looked momentarily surprised, but I saw the heat stir in his obsidian eyes and I pressed into him.

"Beautiful, brilliant mind like yours." I continued, ignoring the slight twinge of pain from my tongue. I'd really cut it and as blood gathered on the muscle, the Joker's hand twisted into my hair and forced me into a harsh kiss. When he pulled back, I was giggling again, and Kuklinski was watching us in horror. (Behind him however, Alec looked a bit turned on and had to close his hanging jaw when I winked.)

"**You**." The Joker snapped at one of our thugs, still holding tightly to my hair. The guy jumped to attention, eyes wide and hurried over when the Joker gave an impatient gesture. He murmured the guy's task, careful that no one else heard, though they couldn't over my giggling. I was just so excited that we had the same idea. After the guy scurried off, I got another and motioned for Mr. J to lean in excitedly. With a grin, he obliged, arching both brows and I held up my hand as if telling a secret. When I'd finished he released my hair and let out a peel of laughter.

"_Tha-at_ is a _grea__**t**_ idea." He smiled, patting the top of my head. I beamed happily, then skipped to the black duffel bag by a group of our boys. Filled with a few emergency supplies; guns, C-4, blast caps, a home-made detonator, _and_ a very special piece of jewelry.

I pulled the stiff wrist cuff from a side pocket and turned back to Kuklinski with a manic grin. The mob boss seemed unsettled and glanced around as I approached, clutching the thing to my chest.

"Mr. J made this for me years ago." I smiled and stroked a thumb across the decorative black bands inked into the cuff. It was made of a leather…of _sorts_, and when Kuklinski saw it, he went a little green.

"I've never gotten the chance to wear it," I sighed, "Never had the right occasion I suppose, but," and here I let the malice slide into my smile, "now I want _you_ to have it."

"What is it?" he asked in a strained calm. He knew, I could tell by the slight tremble in him and the building pain in his eyes.

Alec frowned, gazing down at the cuff. "Bloody hell, Red, is that…" but I was hurrying over to the Italian's framed photos, scattered and broken on the floor. After finding the one I wanted, I skipped back and sat across his lap. (The Brit fisted his hair so he couldn't head butt me again.)

The picture was from Kuklinski's wedding. It had him and the moll smiling euphorically in front of a church entrance. Mrs. K was showing off her ring with a grinning bridesmaid, while a best man threw an arm around her new husband's shoulders.

For a moment, I gazed down at the picture of Tyler. It was strange; recently my memory of him had gotten fuzzy. Sometimes I couldn't entirely recall his face at all. The mutilated thing he'd been in his final moments** always**, but the _before_ had been slipping.

"You have the same eyes. "I smiled faintly, brushing glass from the frame, though it cut into my fingers. "Pretty green, like emeralds." Then I giggled and held up the cuff.

In the picture, Tyler's arm was slung around Kuklinski's shoulders. The position had pushed up his tux sleeve, exposing his bare wrist. And there, inked in black around the flesh, were tribal bands.

The exact same marks on the cuff.

I wriggled the cuff with a grin, "Now you can have the same tattoo."

Kuklinski closed his eyes in grief and pain as Alec kept him still as I laced the cuff around his wrist. Behind me, his wife whispered a prayer, whimpering when the Joker touched her cheek in mock comfort.

"You'd be surprised how_ hard_ that was to make." He said, just as the thug came scrambling back into the room with a big red gallon can. I jumped off Kuklinski's lap to clap excitedly, just as the Italian began to panic again.

"Wait, NO! No, you can't! You-"

"Shut him up, Albert." The Joker said distractedly. As the Brit gagged him, I moved to hold the moll down while Mr. J lifted the gas can.

Just to be clear, being covered in gasoline is _not_ pleasant. I'd ruined a job in our first year together and the Joker had been less than pleased. He'd tied me up and doused me, but I'd managed to talk him down as he struck the match.

The fumes alone burned the eyes and throat and that was _before_ it was aflame. The overpowering stench made you nauseous and dizzy, but she wouldn't be for long. Soon agony would overpower _everything_.

Kuklinski fought and screamed for all he was worth as the Joker emptied the can and lifted his matchbook, 'I Believe in Harvey Dent' stamped on the cover. I giggled at this and watched wide-eyed as the clown struck the first match. It snapped and Kuklinski gave a relieved groan. His wife was struggling weakly, sobbing again, and we all watched in building anticipation as the next three matches went the same way. The Joker growled in irritation and struck the 5th, our boys cheered when it ignited and I grinned over at him, dark and eager.

"Step back, Harley-girl." He warned and I managed to jump away as the tiny flame landed on her chest and she was suddenly engulfed in angry red heat. I hadn't expected her to go _up_ that quickly. With a startled, manic laugh, I hurried to the Joker and leaned into him as he pulled out his favorite revolver and shot off a few rounds into the smoke-detectors overhead, motioning for the boys to do the same for the others in the house, just in case.

At first the sound that filled the room was _like_ a siren, and I thought maybe it was too late. It took a moment for me to realize it was Mrs. K screaming. It didn't last though, not after sucking in a breath drew the flames down her throat and effectively melted the flesh of her throat and lungs. She was still screaming, but it was silenced now.

The room was much brighter than it had been, though it flickered. In the dancing light I watched Alec nearly lose control of Kuklinski. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. He looked wild, almost unnerving in his ferocity, as he fought desperately to get to his writhing wife. Screaming and thrashing for all the good it did either of them.

Then I looked up at the Joker. He wasn't interested in the Italian at all, but gazed intently down at his wife. I couldn't read his expression but he seemed almost fascinated. By her face, the expression there; before the flesh sizzled and cracked, charring beyond recognition. Eventually her thrashing slowed and then she was just a disgusting, barbequed _thing_. Kindling for the bonfire atop the table.

I frowned, covering my nose and mouth with my sleeve as I was hit with the first wave of putrid smoke. I've never smelled anything quite as horrifying as burning flesh, and it turned my stomach.

"It smells awful, Puddin'." He blinked once, snapping back to reality and squeezed my arm.

"Put it out." He said flatly and a couple thugs hurried off to comply.

Kuklinski wasn't thrashing anymore. In fact, now he only stared at the flames, eyes huge and blank. His breathing was heavy, every exhale a ragged almost-sob, and tears had made gleaming paths down both his cheeks in the firelight. He looked…lost. I wasn't even sure he was _with_ us anymore.

"Mr. J?" I tugged at his sleeve while the guys doused the fire. "I think we broke him." Smiling faintly, the Joker gave me a light smack on the backside as he moved toward the trembling Italian.

"He's not gone yet, are ya Dick?" With that he popped him on the cheek and the Italian's blank gaze snapped up to the Joker.

I don't think I ever seen hatred like _that_ before. His eyes were boiling with fury so potent it was actually a little frightening. If looks could kill, Mr. J would have had his flesh peeled away, body turned inside out, and exploded by now.

"Besides, we've still got _oonnne_ more_ present_ for him, re-**mem-**ber, Pooh?"

I smiled and nodded, speaking excitedly, "I almost forgot!"

He ruffled my hair and snapped at the boys. "**Show**time people. Get _to_ i**t**."

The table was dragged away, though the remnants of the body rolled off and fell at Kuklinski's feet. For a long moment, he didn't breathe, but then the Joker grabbed the thing and tossed it out of the way and the guy could hardly contain himself.

"**Hey**." The Joker smacked him and grabbed his jaw, "_Shh, shh_. Calm down. I made a movie for you. Well…" he rolled his eyes, "I made it for the _family_, but the misses wouldn't have seen more than **half** of it anyway." He fluttered his fingers to his eye, giggling wickedly as Kuklinski's every muscle tensed, wanting to spring. "But I guess you'll be enjoying this one _yourself_."

The projector clicked on and he chuckled darkly. A chill went down my spine at the deep timbre of his voice. "You're a** bachelor** now."

The lights clicked off, so I could only hear Kuklinski's reaction, but it sounded as if the chair had popped off the floor and clattered back into place. Alec had gotten ahold of him as he'd lunged at the Joker. While Mr. J laughed wildly in the background I twisted at a lock of my damp hair. I hadn't seen this film, and was slightly nervous about what it contained.

The wall was turned into a giant screen, the projector between Mr. J and Kuklinski, so nothing was blocked.

A dim, grainy image of a concrete room covered the wall. At its center and little, black-haired girl looked up into the camera with tears in her huge green eyes. The Joker knelt down beside her and wiggled his fingers into the lense.

"Say **hi**, _bunny-bear_, Mommy and Daddy can see you."

She clutched a dingy, torn rabbit toy and simply looked up at him. Her face was dirty and streaked in tears, her expression terrified.

I looked down, feeling a little sick, then smiled. It was hard to hold, until Mr. J _coochie-cooed _over the audio and a real burst of laughter bubbled out. He glanced over at me, grinning in that almost-proud way that let me know I was doing good then looked back at the Italian.

Alec was gazing firmly at Kuklinski's head. Women, I guess he could stomach, but kiddies didn't sit well with him. I could relate.

Thankfully, Mr. J pulled me toward the short hall to the door. I could hear the boys following suit. Kuklinski was sitting forward in his chair, eyes flicking all over the screen. His little girl cried loudly over the pricey stereo system I'm sure he was currently regretting.

"But," I pointed back toward the sobbing Italian. "Aren't you gunna…?" I slid a finger across my throat with a slicing sound.

The Joker actually laughed at me and shook his head. "I'm not going to kill him, Harley. I was sending a _mess-age_."

Besides, I realized as the child started screaming over the distorted laughter inside, the Joker probably thought the idea of Kuklinski after him a fun _game_. Not a threat.

Outside on the porch, Mr. J pulled a roll of hard candy Lifesavers from one of his many pockets and popped one into his mouth. I smiled as his crunched down on it and handed me a piece.

"_Ooh_, red one." I held it on my tongue, savoring it merrily as we walked down the path toward our van.

* * *

**Good god, I'm happy to have finally finished this damn chapter. There were so many versions (hence it taking so long), including beating in the wife's skull, more torture, and even one with a pretty violent rape scene, but in the end I think this one worked the best.**

**Now I'm just curious what you all think about it. Awesome? Terrible? Depraved? (that last one's just a hopeful, lol)**

**Till next time...**

**PS.. THERE'S A NEW JOKER BLOGS EPISODE UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -cough- you know...if you're_ into_ that...ahem, nerdy kinda stuff -shifty eyes-**


	27. Tear You Apart

**Bruce**

This city was becoming Hell.

Not that it hadn't been before, but now it seemed everywhere he looked new criminals with a taste for the theatrical were crawling their way from the ground. He'd wanted to inspire fear in them, not simply inspire.

This was his fault, he knew. Each new maniac that announced themselves in Gotham with costume and gimmick was his fault, and he would bare the weight of this. Just like he blamed himself for the trail of bodies that that bastard of a clown had left in his wake. Each day Bruce failed to bring him, he knew would mean another dead. It was as if he had killed them himself and the idea made him sick.

"Master Wayne, I believe there is something you-"

"I can't stop him, Alfred." Bruce gazed out the window of his manor. All the lights had been turned out, and beside him was a freshly open bottle of scotch. "I can put him back in Arkham, but he'll only find a way to slither out again."

Alfred cleared his throat and took the bottle, capping it and returning it to its shelf.

"How do I end this? If I kill him, that makes me just as terrible as he is. If I don't, he'll never stop. Either way the bastard wins."

With a sigh, his butler flicked on the over head light and grabbed the tv remote.

"If you're quite finished with your brooding, I think there's something you might want to see."

The screen lit up flashing the Gotham City News where Mike Engle was looking pale and frightened.

"_Gotham City was rocked today when Marcus Moretti, bodyguard and long-time friend of alleged mob boss Richard L. Kuklinski, stumbled into a bloodbath in his employer's home. Kuklinksi was found bound to a chair facing what we are told was a looped home video of the death of his 8 year old daughter Teresa."_

Mike Engle paused a moment, pulling at his tie before looking back up at the teleprompter.

"_Among the casualties, most of which are assumed to be Kuklinski's personal security, was a horribly burned body that we are told might very well be Kuklinski's own wife Angela. We are awaiting the analysis of her dental records for confirmation as it seems that is all that was left recognizable on the corpse."_

Here Mike looked up at the camera and seemed to be sweating.

"_While there is no concrete evidence, it is believed that this is the work of…" he took a breath, "The Joker. Detective Harvey Bullock is on the scene with our very own Lydia Filangeri_…"

Bruce clicked off the plasma screen and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Should I prep the cycle then sir?" Alfred asked. Bruce nodded stiffly and stood.

Looked like he would be paying Gordan a visit.

"When I came in he was just sitting there, I mean, not even moving. I thought, god, I thought he was _dead_. There were bodies everywhere, and Angie…" he closed his eyes a moment, make a soft sound of pain, "I wouldn't have even known it was _her_ if she didn't have her ring on."

"And Kuklinski?" Ramirez asked gently.

"I tried to talk to him at first, when I saw he was still awake, but he just stared at that screen. I mean, he had to have been watching it for _hours_. How fucked up is that?" Moretti ran fingers through his hair and gave a humorless laugh, "I got him untied but I don't think he really knew I was doin' it, then he…_**fuck**__ man_."

"What happened then, Mr. Moretti?"

"He had this…bracelet? I tried to touch it and he fuckin' attacked me!" Moretti slammed a fist on the table. "I've known that man a long time, I was at his _wedding_, but…I don't think he knew who I was. How does that happen?"

Gordan shut off the tv and crossed his arms.

"Have you gotten ahold of this bracelet?" Batman asked. The Commissioner nodded.

"It took three officers to hold him down and another to rip the damn thing off. Kuklinski fought like a mad man."

"Why is it so important to him?"

"Well that's being debated, but from what he's been screaming, it's his brother."

"Kuklinski has no brother." The Batman scowled. "What does that mean exactly?"

"The thing is made from human skin." Gordan replied slowly.

"Whose?"

"Do you remember the multiple homicide at Gotham U a few years back? If I remember correctly you where the one who found the Joker's invitation off the highway."

Batman went very still. "The thug I found? He was mutilated and partially…you're saying the skin was his?"

"Apparently the two of them were friends," Gordan flipped open the top file on a stack to a roughed up pictures of Kuklinski on his wedding day. The man standing next to him must have been the thug.

Batman sighed, before turning toward the window. "I'll find him."

"Before you go, you should know that Kuklinski has been raving about what he wants to do to them."

"Them?"

"Apparently, the girlfriend finally stepped off the bench. From what we've been able to pick out of his rambling, Ms. Quinzel was just as responsible for what happened as her boyfriend."

Batman stared down at the city through the open window a long moment, and Gordan came close to asking him what was wrong, but the vigilante stepped onto the ledge with a new determination and took a slow breath.

"Then I'll find her too."

xXx

"You ready for this, love?" Alec arched a teasing brow, "Me and the boys wouldn't think any less of you if you quit while you're ahead."

With a smile I grabbed my shot glass and downed it, slamming the thing back down on its head. The boys cheered and Alec gave a groan, knocking his forehead against the table.

"Where the bloody hell are you putting it woman?" he exclaimed after his own shot. "How are you not facedown or praying to the porcelain gods right now?"

"Porcelain gods?" I asked with a giggly hiccup as the bar tender poured another round for our game. The Brit rolled his eyes and picked up a lime.

"Vomiting, love."

"Ah…well," I shrugged, "I've always been a good drinker. I had a great teacher."

"Your man?"

"My mother." I grinned. Around us the boys laughed, clinking glasses and generally enjoying themselves.

Mr. J had decided we all deserved a bit of a break tonight after all the excitement, or maybe he'd just wanted to talk with Oswald, the midget who ran this underground strip joint. From what I'd heard, he ran a lot of them; boxing rings, clubs, even a ritzy restaurant in the snobbish side of town. The Iceberg Lounge was 5 stars and everything. When he wasn't schmoozing it up with Gotham's finest, he was in the business of money. Pretty much every bookie in Gotham worked for Ozzy, and rumor had it he was not the kind of guy you wanted to owe. What the_ Joker_ wanted with him I had no idea, but I'd been told to stay with our guys while "the big boys talked business". So that's what I was doing.

"Hey Harl." one of the boys called with a wide grin. The guys around him pushed him forward with huge stupid grins of their own and I arched a brow. This guy was about to say or do something very stupid for his friend's entertainment.

I wonder if he realized I was still armed.

Alec glanced between us from behind his bottle, wondering if he was about to have to get violent, but I held up a hand and motioned for the guy to continue.

"Exactly how drunk would you say you are right now?" he asked, fighting hard against his grin. I narrowed my eyes a bit.

"Pretty far gone, why?"

Another shove from his buddies and he laughed. "Drunk enough to dance, maybe?"

"With you?" A better question was how drunk was _he_?

He shrugged, "I could dig that too, but I meant for all of us."

"Come on, baby, show us what you got!"

Alec tossed his bottle at the last commenter and the guys burst into more drunken laughter. The first one gave me a smirk, downing the rest of his beer.

"You don't have to though. We'd all understand if you ain't got the stones."

"Alec?"

The Brit shrugged, "Your call, Red. No bother to me if you want to look like a huge _pune_."

Oh, these assholes. I sighed heavily before standing from my barstool to cheers. How could I just walk away from a challenge, even one as idiotic as this?

"Oy!" Alec flagged the DJ, "We need some tunes!"

The skeezy-looking guy grinned and tapped out something on his computer. A simple beat began to play, laced with a sort of trancie undertone. I smiled, knowing the song and made my way toward the middle of the strip joint. Behind me the guys were cheering and whooping, and when I made it to the small stage, the other patrons joined in.

There were half naked girls dancing about the stage already, but they made room and encouraged me with smiles when I started swaying with the beats of _Tear You Apart_ by She Wants Revenge. Thankfully the excessive alcohol helped take care of any nervousness I might have felt and soon I was singing along and shedding my leather jacket. Alec raised his beer to me, carrying on with the boys while I whipped around my hair.

"_And now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her_

_I want to hold you close_

_Skin pressed against me tight_

_Lie still, close your eyes girl_

_So lovely it feels so right_

_I want to hold you close_

_Soft breasts, beating heart_

_As I whisper in your ear_

_I wanna fucking tear you apart."_

I hoped off the stage for the last bit moving my way back to the bar where Alec and my challenger still stood grinning like idiots. With a coy smile, I slid up to the thug while the Brit nearly choked on his beer. I'm not sure why he was so shocked, but I ignored him to sing the last bit to the thug.

"_As I whisper in your ear_-"

Suddenly fingers clamped around my arm like steel and yanked me back away from him and against a solid chest. I caught sight of the purple before spinning around and popping the guy one.

"Mr. J?" I asked with a smile, turning in his arms. "You missed my dancin'."

I couldn't really read his expression, be it the way he hid it, or the shots that suddenly seemed to be catching up with me. He didn't seem furious though, so I was content to wrap my arms around his neck and lean in against his chest, smiling up at him.

"Then again, if ya want, I'd be happy to dance for ya. Maybe even in private?"

The guys started a round of '_oooh_'s while the Joker gazed down at me. After what seemed eternity, those dark eye lit up and his cracked a wide smile.

"This is a party," he replied, sliding his gaze to the boys who'd been tensed and ready for violence until now. "Why not."

Alec tipped his beer to our boss and turned back to the bar tender.

"We're gunna need a few more rounds."

* * *

**Again with the lengthy period of non-posting. S****orry guys.**

**I've been debating whether or not I was going to write another full length Joker-themed fic. At the moment, I'm still playing with ideas, but I'm thinking if I do, it'll have something to do with my Nolan-Ivy. Who, incidentally was going to be introduced in this chapter, but got edited out. **

**In other news, I now know what the Joker blogs actor looks like outside of makeup. One step closer to abducting his sexy ass. –cough- though that would be **_**wrong**_**. Did anyone else read anything about the next one going up in October? Is this true? I'm happy if it isn't over, but that's quite a while to wait for more Joker. How will I survive?**

**Also, fuck Batman for interrupting that kiss. The prick.**


	28. Of Strippers and Reflections

"So, whadoya think they're doin' in there?" The new guy nodded toward the back room, where the Joker and Harley had stumbled into only an hour before. Alec glanced up at him from his cushioned poker chair and arched a brow.

Why was there always a bloody new guy? He couldn't go a week without losing at least one man and days later a _new_ one just popped up like weeds. Bad thing was, more and more of them were turning out to be sycophantic crazies, either fresh out the loony bin or stumbled in from the streets. More and more of the little roach bastards were skittering out of the woodwork, high on the intoxicating promises that only The Joker could provide.

"Oy, Marv, who the fuck is this wanker and when did he get here?" Alec tossed his head at the new guy and frowned. The defected Italian thug shrugged and folded his hand, cursing at the loss of his 6-chip ante.

"His name's…" he snapped as if to help himself remember and the skinny new thug scowled.

"David." He replied tersely.

Alec sighed and folded his hand as well. By the looks of this one he was a street-walking schizophrenic. He had stringy dark hair and beady eyes sunken into shadowed pits, as if he never slept.

"How long you been off your medication, David?" Another of the guys asked with a smile as he tossed down his winning hand and scooped up the pile of chips.

The new guy blinked, glancing around at them all. "'Bout a month. Boss says they ain't gunna help me anyway. Says I need to let it all out."

"'Course he did." Alec muttered. The Joker just knew how to talk to them. Though it must have helped that he was crazier than the whole bloody city combined. The clown always knew just what to say to get these freaks and mentals to follow right along. He was the Pied Piper of psychos, colorful clothing and all! Alec had even heard that one guy had let him stitch a bomb under his _skin_.

This city was one of a kind.

"But really," David twitched, blinking again and Alec leaned a bit away from him. He'd have to remember this face in the morning, after his hangover was over of course. He'd have to watch him.

"Whadoya' think they're doin'?" he asked again and the creepy little smile he flashed made Alec want to hit the guy. This was another annoyance with new guys.

"Exactly what you think." One of the guys confirmed, shaking his head. Another laughed and then the table was yammering on about nothing but. Bloody hell, he was tired of hearing about the couple's sex lives.

"But…she's rockin', how did he..?"

"Rockin'?" Alec muttered under his breath as he picked up his new hand. "Because she's a right crazy bird." He answered the guy.

David frowned in confusion, but Victor hurried to explain.

"Look, from what I've heard, she followed the Joker around, right? Then she runs into him, throws herself on him and it's been like this _since_." Vic shrugged.

"They fight, sometimes he tries to gank her, but then they fuck, and it's all good again." Another goon chimed in, picking up a new card.

"Lucky guy." David laughed in a weird nasally way that put Alec on edge.

"Don't talk like that, mate, bad things happen to the one's that go for it."

David shrugged, "I've heard the story." He shot back, then grimaced, "Can't believe he cut the guy's junk off and made her _eat_ it. That's twacked out, man"

Alec laughed. He hadn't heard that version yet.

"Anyway, it's a shame." David folded his hand and the table erupted with replies from the others.

"You serious?"

"Did you see _anything_ tonight?"

"That bitch is crazy!"

David grinned again, "That's the best part." He said, glancing up to meet all their eyes. "She'd be wild in the sack."

The thugs all laughed and jeered, shouldering him and throwing things, but generally agreeing. Alec, however, knew he'd never even attempt it. It was suicide.

No bloody way.

**xXx**

I couldn't remember how I'd gotten covered in so much blood.

Not that it bothered me, mind you. On the contrary it made Mr. J's skin wonderfully slick as he moved against me. The dressing room had become a blur of grunts and glittering mirror lights. Nothing else mattered. Not when he was touching me. My hand went up behind me, pressing against the cracked mirror, though the sharp bits of glass did little to distract me from Mr. J and his animalistic love-making.

The fingers around my throat tightened, almost until I couldn't breathe, but it didn't stop the encouraging moan I let out for him. I had to savor these moments when I could get them, and so far twice in one day was a personal best for me. I had to be doing _something_ right.

A soft sob brought my attention to the lump of flesh and cloth huddled against the mirror beside us. Something pathetic that had pressed itself into the corner in an attempt to avoid our notice, but couldn't keep down the whimpers. My eyes narrowed, locking momentarily with the lump's and it sobbed harder, curling farther into itself.

Above me, the Joker growled and shuttered his release, making my toes curl in the pleasure of the thought, and I quickly followed his example. After a moment, even the clown's attention had strayed to the lump, though he didn't pull away from me. Feeling a bit territorial, I let my legs curl around his waist, holding him inside me though his erection was only a blissful memory. His giggle was soft and a bit breathless, but held the desired effect of making the lump tremble in fear.

"Hmm? _Excuse_ me?" he asked mockingly, reaching out to grab the lump by its hair and reveal the bruised female face beneath. "I _ha__**t**__e_ it when people _mum-_ble."

She fought to speak around the blood-stained knot of cloth shoved into her mouth, but only managed a few nonsensical sounds. My eyes fell on the blood trickling down the side of her face from her temple, then to the smashed bit of mirror that matched the red stain.

Ah yes, now I remembered. It had been her misfortune to be changing when we'd stumbled into the dressing room, clawing at each other like beasts. She'd tried to run of course, scrambling to the door, but not before the Joker had wrapped an arm around her waist and locked it there. Then had come the begging; _please do hurt me, don't kill me, I have a boyfriend, blah blah blah…_And when it seemed she'd gained all of Mr. J's attention, I'd bashed her head against the mirror. Couldn't have her ruining my fun.

Mr. J had handcuffed her with the set dangling at her hip. We'd played with her a little after that, he making shallow cuts while I smeared the blood against his skin and ripped open his vest and shirt. Even now they hung open, flashing a strip of tan flesh from his throat to his hips.

Mouth watering, I leaned forward and bit into his neck, tasting the streaks of greasepaint there. The Joker hissed in a breath and giggled, high and manically, tightening the fist he had tangled in my hair until I was forced to look up at him.

"I think she looks bored." I grinned, glancing sideways at the bloody and beaten stripper. Mr. J's eyes followed, narrowing slightly on her as if he were zeroing in on his prey. The idea of the games he might play with the girl excited me and it was the only reason I could stand letting go of him. He was rumpled, and still a little breathless from our latest round, and that tempting strip of skin was just screaming for my nails to rake themselves down it.

"You're right, Harls." He grinned, grabbing the link of chain connecting her cuffed wrists and jerking it toward us. I busied myself with putting him back away and zipping up his pinstriped trousers, and was rewarded with a quick nip on the shell of my ear.

The stripper was shaking her head violently, eyes wide, fighting to pull out of his grip, but the clown only cackled and jerked her closer until she fell across the counter and into my lap. Her big brown eyes shot to me and she whimpered. Probably remembering the way I'd carved the Joker's name into her back.

"Wha**t** should we do to keep her _enter-_tained?" Mr. J asked, though he wasn't really talking to me, just fucking with the girl.

"I think she wants you to hurt her a little more." I replied anyway, "Remember all those excited sounds she made before? I think she _likes_ it."

He leaned forward and stroked a finger down her swollen cheek, "_Naugh_**ty** girl."

Now the girl was watching us wide-eyed and writhing against her own authentic handcuffs until the skin was raw and bleeding. Her lip was split and swollen where Mr. J had socked her one earlier for attacking me, and I'd given her a nice pretty gash down the side of her face that had yet to stop bleeding. The tiny bits of glass in her hair caught the light and for a moment I found myself thinking it pretty, like diamonds or stars.

The Joker tilted his head and dragged her off the counter and against himself by her throat. The bulbs around the wall-length mirror flickered when he threw her against it and pinned her there. All it took was the firm grip of his ungloved fingers around her throat and the stripper went passive and quiet, but I could already tell, it wouldn't do her any good. The Joker had gotten that certain malicious glimmer in his dark, dark eyes that said nothing short of a _nuclear explosion_ could save her

Mr. J glanced down at the girl who was shaking her head, blinking away tears, and turning sickly pale. With a dangerous giggle, he dragged the stripper up into a sitting position by her throat, paying no mind when she choked, and slammed her back against the mirror so hard it cracked again. Now dazed, she slumped down as far as his grip would allow, and Mr. J pulled me to him by the shirt with his free hand and into a demanding kiss.

The stripper began to really panic once she could see strait and shoved at the Joker as he leaned over her to me. This only made him laugh of course, and drew back to look at her.

"Come **on** now, girlie," he grinned, "_man-ners_."

I slid off the counter then to spin circles around them to the other side, giggling like a child. When I opened my eyes however, the smile faded and I stared at the cracked mirror.

The face there wasn't mine. It was warped and ugly and evil. The demented smile it had curled up to its ears, ragged and uneven and disgusting. The eyes were bright and cold, sunken into a face so distorted it made me sick. Did I look like this inside? I wondered reaching out to touch the reflection. Was this really me? Was I broken and ugly now, hiding behind a smile like the Joker? I leaned in, pushing against the face of this imposter with a snarls.

"Not me." I hissed, and slammed my fist into the glass, watching the hideous girl shatters and fall, piece by piece onto the floor.

I was drawn back to the present when the stripper tried to scream, though the sound came out chocked and wet behind her gag. Mr. J had sunken his blade into her gut and was whispering something to her, working the knife up and down to split more skin.

I smiled to myself, catching his eyes briefly in the unbroken mirror, and leaned flush against his back, reaching around to flatten my hands against his abdomen. He chuckled as he pulled the blade from the stripper, dripping and red, then sank it back in, working a new wound into her stomach. She wouldn't die just yet, but if she lost much more blood, it would be over. The girl was already pale and weak.

I watched her eyes roll closed a moment, head lolling to the side, and raked my nails across the Joker's abdomen. He hissed, finding my eyes in the mirror again, and stabbed the girl one last time, twisting the blade harshly so she'd scream. I smiled slyly, arching a brow and dipped my head down to grazed my teeth against his throat.

"I need more alcohol," I said slowly. The stripper was sinking down against the mirror, unable to hold herself up any longer and Mr. J was grinning like a mad dog. He didn't answer, turning his attention back on the girl, so I drew away and stumbled toward the door, unlocking it.

"Have fun." I giggled, waving over my shoulder and slipped out the door back into the bar, closing it behind me.

"I caught your show earlier."

The low feminine voice caught me off guard and I jumped, spinning to face a fiery-haired woman. Her smile was slow and entirely too sensual for my taste, but I offered a polite, semi-strained smile and nodded.

"It was, _well_," she gave a soft, throaty chuckle, "quite enjoyable."

"Thanks." I replied, feeling a bit uncomfortable in the way she was staring at me. She however, didn't catch my discomfort, or didn't care, because she kept talking.

"That man you're with," her green eyes flashed to the dressing room door, then slid back to me. "Is that _really_ who I think it is?"

Maybe it was the alcohol, but my full focus snapped to her and I frowned in suspicion. "Who _do_ you think it is?"

The red-head's smile got all flirty again and she crossed her arms to give me a thorough looking over. "So that would make you Harley Quinn, wouldn't it? Hmm." She tilted her head, "So the rumors are true. He _is_ a lucky bastard."

I stepped back, glancing over at the boys and hoping Alec might recue me, but he was far too focused on the waitress currently scrawling her number onto his hand with a felt-tip pen. The woman's gaze followed mine then casually returned, putting me a bit on edge.

"You know _my_ name…" I frowned, crossing my arms too. We might as well be on even ground.

The red head smiled in her flirtatious way again and offering me a hand that I took cautiously.

"Isley." She said slowly, "But you can call me Pam."

"Alright, Pammy," I smiled in an overly friendly sort of way, "Well as nice as it was meeting you, I've got a little…business I need to take care of so see you around."

She arched a brow, eyeing the dressing room door in a way that made me a bit testy, then chuckled. "It's a date." She replied far too intently, and sauntered off before I could correct her.

That was probably the strangest conversation I'd had in a while.

I shook off the initial_ ick_ of being hit on by a girl, then decided to take it as a compliment and just get my damn alcohol. More whiskey was all I needed, then I could bring back a bottle and return to the dressing room where that girl was hopefully dead already. If so, I might be able to rope the Joker into a little more nookie.

I was enjoying the thought when my eyes slid over the window and caught the brief shadow of someone outside, moving quickly out of sight. My body went still a moment, and I don't think I even breathed as I stared out the frosted glass and tried to make out the shapes in the blurry darkness, finding nothing.

Damn it. I thought storming toward the door. Whoever was sneaking around had better get gone fast, cuz I didn't need to be worrying about them right now. If they made me miss out on more of the Joker's incredible, giving mood, I'd fucking kill them.

* * *

**Whoaaaaaaaa! So it's been a Loooooooooong time. Sorry, but for a while there I was thinking that I couldn't write Joker anymore. Not that I don't still love the crazy bastard, just, every time I sat down to continue the story, it felt wrong.**

**Then I had a WONDERFUL dream featuring a certain clown and thought why not try again, just in case. So here it is.**

**Sorry to let you all down with the wait, but since the Joker blogs are finally over and I can't find any Joker fics that really interest me (why does _everyone_ make him out to be a redeemable character? He's fucking psychotic and that _isn't_ going to change because some Mary Sue comes along and gives up a little ass) I havn't had a lot to inspire me.**

**If anyone knows any good Joker fics, like violent and demented the way he _should_ be, PLEASE send them my way.**

**Until next time. We are coming to the end of our story boys and girls.**

** O.o WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN?**


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